What Matters Most
by Jack O The Lantern
Summary: When you've seen the things Ash has seen, it's hard to be like everyone else. Sometimes keeping secrets is the easiest course of action. But the path of least resistance can put the ones you love in danger... Aftermath of the Kalos League and XYZ Finale. Old friends, new challenges, one question for Serena to answer: who is Ash Ketchum? Rated T for BATTLE! Amourship, Smart!Ash.
1. Foreword

I would recommend reading this, but you can skip, the story starts next chapter.

A few words before we begin-

1\. Within the world of this story, PCs and sending Pokemon from one place to another through a computer do not exist. Pokemon are much closer to actual animals than the games portray. One does not download them onto a flash drive.

2\. Ash Ketchum is somewhat of an enigma in that he never seems to age. Not in this story. Ash has aged as he would have had he started his journey at ten years old. Here are the approximate ages of the main characters in this story.

Clemont, Miette, Tierno- 17

Ash, Serena, Shauna, Sawyer- 16

Trevor- 15

Bonnie- 9

Professor Sycamore- None'a'yo business! (Kidding, he's 31.)

That should be enough for getting on with. As more characters are introduced, I'll try to remember to mention their ages.

3\. While Pokemon are the superior means of combat and keeping the peace in this story, modern weaponry does exist. Law enforcement officers such as Officer Jenny carry modern handguns, but Organizations such as Team Flare use weapons that fire energy collected from a Pokemon's attack. Think Hyper Beam or Charge Beam, but a little smaller, coming from a gun. Kinda Star Wars, I know, but I think it makes sense. Law enforcement don't use these because of their greater potential for misuse and collateral damage. An ordinary firearm, or trained Pokemon, is much more precise.

4\. Gambling on Pokemon battles is illegal. Holding an official tournament, where the pot goes to the winner, is legal. Technically.

5\. This symbol here (-o-) means a shift in the story, time-line, or Point Of View. It's meant to look a little like a pokeball. I know it's a bit of a stretch, but I'm doin' my best.

6\. I won't pretend that the events in the Pokemon movies didn't happen. However, the events that transpired were, for the most part, witnessed by few people, and Ash and friends kinda keep that stuff under wraps. Also, Ash has, over time, regained his memories of what happened with Mewtwo. Brock and Misty still don't remember. Whether Mewtwo meant to remove the mental block, or if it faded naturally, is a mystery.

7\. Pokemon saying their names over and over again really gets on my nerves. It makes sense that Pokemon like Pikachu could have been named after the sounds they make, but Pokemon whose names clearly refer to their appearance or nature… it doesn't make even a little bit of sense. With the exception of Pikachu, and a few others, Pokemon will make the noises you would expect them to make. (Dragons roar, frogs croak, chandeliers make whatever noise you think a possessed chandelier would make.)

While we're here, let me give a more precise summary. This is essentially a How It Should Have Ended for the XY and XYZ anime. In this version of the story, Ash won the Kalos League, and not only that, but he beat out Diantha for the title of Kalos Champion. After mopping up Team Flare, there's the small question of… what now?

When you've seen everything Ash has, it's hard to be like everyone else. Ash decides to keep his history as a Pokemon trainer secret from his new friends, pretending that his journey began with Pikachu in Kalos. But it's only a matter of time until the Meowth's out of the bag.

Ash comes to the conclusion that his journey has come to an end. He brings his Kalos friends back to his home in Kanto. There are touching reunions, new friends meet old friends, and it seems peace has come to our heroes. Until Steven Stone and Alan make Ash an offer he has a hard time refusing…

This story will have a lot to do with the relationship between Ash and Serena, as well as what the future holds for Ash's friends as their childhood falls away. First half- friendship and fun. Second half- more hardcore battle and intrigue.


	2. Prologue

Prologue

"Use Blast Burn!"

" _Water Shuriken!"_

The force of the explosion blew back the hair of spectators in the topmost seating section. Those closest to the arena were drenched in heavy mist or burned in scorching wind. The referee was teleported away at the last minute by a watchful Xatu. The steam cloud quickly combined with the dust from Blast Burn's terra-fracture, making sight impossible. For what seemed an age, thousands of spectators were silent, straining to see through the smog. The commentators held their breath as the air cleared and the field could be seen.

The earth marking the path of Blast Burn rose and fell in sharp spires, the area of effect widening from the mark of Mega Charizard's punch to Greninja's end of the field. Water Shuriken's target zone, (the area surrounding where Charizard stood,) looked like ground zero. The turf had been obliterated.

Charizard stood heaving in the midst of annihilation, while Greninja bent double, panting, exhausted, his skin burned black in places. Alain stood behind his dragon, staring with eyes like flint, willing Charizard to stay standing. Ash looked like his Pokemon, doubled over, holding his side in the same place that a shard of stone shrapnel had pierced Greninja. For a moment, then another, and then another, nothing changed.

And then it happened.

Ash looked up, and his Pokemon did the same. The shuriken on Greninja's back whirled into existence once again, and the duo, in sync, raised their fists to the sky and screamed together in defiance.

As the crowd watched, Charizard succumbed to his fatigue, and Alain fell to his knees, as the dragon before him fell to the earth and laid still. It was over.

It was as if a bomb had gone off in the arena. The commentators were beside themselves, and it was impossible to hear anything over the roar of the crowd. Soundlessly, the referee, teleported back to the battlefield, declared Charizard unable to battle, that Greninja was the winner, and that the match went to Ash from Pallet Town.

Silently, Bonnie squealed in delight and hugged Clemont, who was mutely shouting himself hoarse. Tierno lifted Trevor onto his shoulders, the two of them mouthing the word, "ASH!ASH!ASH!" There were no words for Shauna or Serena. They screamed and screamed without making a sound, tears in Serena's eyes as she saw him throw his arms around Greninja, saw him go to his knees as Greninja reverted back to his original form. He'd done it. Ash was the best. Like no one ever was.


	3. The Best Laid Plans

Chapter 1

The sunset glinting off of Lumios Tower was one of the locals' favorite things about Lumios City. Countless postcards had been sold in gift shops and post offices, featuring the beautiful landmark and the colors of the evening. But had a postcard picture been taken on _that_ day, an observant photographer would have noticed something peculiar sitting atop the tower's glimmering summit; a quartet of faithful friends and unlikely heroes. For one of the best kept secrets of Lumios City was how stunning the sunset was from the top of the tower.

It had been eight days since the fateful confrontation with Team Flare and Lysandre. The devastation wreaked by the huge vines was slowly being repaired. It was just as Clemont had said.

" _Nothing could keep my city down."_

The battle against the Megalith had ended in victory. Mulva had found, and subsequently destroyed, the remainder of Team Flare, with the help of two ex-regional champions. Steven and Diantha had jumped at the opportunity to help put an end to the heinous criminals. (And, Serena suspected, at the opportunity to see a little more of each other.)

It had been discovered that the last contingent of Team Flare had been harboring none other than Lysandre, slowly nursing him back to health. But, at the arrival of two Champion-Level trainers, and one of the Kalosian Elite Four, the "brave leader" had been evacuated and smuggled out of the Region. International Police had recently begun their investigation.

Among the heroes, injured parties had been few, and none too serious. Grant had banged himself up pretty good while attempting to shelter Viola, but he professed he would have sacrificed far more for her. Plus, Grant was getting himself hurt all the time, the idiot, so he was a little more resilient than most. Nurse Joy was confident he would make a full recovery in a little over a week's time… if Viola would stop smacking him for being a chivalrous, self-sacrificing, thick-head. Ah, young love.

Ramos and Korrina had also required medical attention… Ramos because, as he put it, he was getting too old for this nonsense. As for Korrina, she had messed up her hands trying to punch her way through a giant vine. Sure, she'd turned the thing into wood-chips, but even with gloves on, that was a little more than she was used to.

Clemont had gotten through just fine: no more than a few scrapes. His Magneton, however, hadn't been so lucky. Its condition had, for a time, been critical, and although it was now making a steady recovery, Clemont feared it may have lost the ability to use Flash Cannon. At the very least, it would require move therapy.

As for the rest of the gym leaders, (and their Pokemon,) none had required more than a day or two of rest and quiet. Wulfric was tough as they came, and had been on his feet joking around almost immediately. Olympia had the slight advantage of being able to teleport, (courtesy of Meowstic #1 and #2,) so she had come out just fine. Valerie was quick, and just a bit of a coward, so whenever it'd gotten dicey, she'd just hidden in a Trick Room for a while to catch her breath. And Viola, of course, had had Grant.

Alain's leg was still healing up, but he refused to so much as say "ouch", especially when Marin was around. Saving Chespie, he said, had been well worth a broken bone, but he was not totally without complaint. He lamented having missed the opportunity to bash some heads with Steven, but stubborn as he was, he knew he wouldn't have been much use being rolled on a gurney. He had, however, loaned his own Metagross to Steven, before the threesome had left to eradicate Team Flare.

Bonnie, much to her chagrin, hadn't even been scratched. She felt bad about not being in the line of fire, what with Serena having bruised three ribs, and Ash having broken his _everything-that-could-possibly-break_ , but her friends did not share her view. Bonnie being healthy after the whole disaster had perhaps been the greatest blessing.

Now, the longtime travel companions sat atop the tower that had so recently been stolen from Clemont. Ever since he'd been discharged from his hospital room, the media had been after Ash like a pack of Houndour, and Clemont had thought of a rather brilliant hiding place. Enjoying this time together, it was easy to forget about their troubles.

Serena glanced shyly to her left. Ash was staring into the sunset, as if intent on witnessing its final moments before departure. He was so focused, she could have sworn that he saw something out there, in the sun… what did he see?

She managed to ask the question before she balked. "Hey, Ash?"

"Yeah?" He answered without looking at her.

"Where... is Pallet Town, exactly?"

It was as if someone had thrown a brick into his glass-like calm, shattering it completely. He looked at her, as if startled back to reality, then calmed slightly, and looked back into the sunset. No answer.

She pressed on, gently. "I remember Professor Oak's summer camp, but I was too young to know where I was. I just remember it seemed a world away."

Ash laughed at that, then sighed, sounding a little sad. "Well, not quite," he said softly, looking down into his hands. "It's only half a world away."

Serena gave a small laugh at this, a little confused. "Oh, come on, Ash. It can't be-"

"Pallet Town is a little village on the West side of the Kanto Region."

Clemont, overhearing, almost fell off the tower. "Wait, you came all the way from Kanto?"

Bonnie was characteristically clueless. "Where's Kanto?"

As Serena gazed in wonder at Ash, Clemont took a minute to respond. "Bonnie, Kanto is very far away. It's all the way on the other side of the world!"

Bonnie's eyes went huge. "Wow! How did you get here, Ash?"

Ash seemed to hesitate, still looking out over Lumios City. "I, uh… I flew. I took a plane from Veridian City into Lumios. That's why I tried to challenge Clemont's gym first."

Something wasn't right about that. Serena had a nagging voice in the back of her head. _"He flew all the way from Kanto to participate in the Kalos League? Why?_ _Doesn't Kanto have it's own League?_ _"_

Bonnie almost exploded from the amount of questions in her head. In order to relieve some of the pressure, she began firing them off as fast as her mouth could move, barely stopping to breathe.

"How long was the flight? What's it like in Kanto? Is Pallet Town nice? Have you been homesick this whole time? Does your family miss you? Are there Pokemon in Kanto? Is Pikachu from Kanto? Which do you like better; Kanto or Kalos? What's the best thing about living in Pallet Town? What's your house like? Are you ever gonna go home?"

Clemont slapped a hand to his forehead so hard, they heard the impact in Hoenn. "Bonnie, CALM DOWN!"

Ash laughed. "Well, I missed most of that, but as for the last question… I was thinking about heading home pretty soon, actually."  
The group sobered up at that. Ash leaving for the other side of the world was kind of a big deal. They had all known that, in the end, the group would have to go their separate ways. But now, it seemed much more real. And much sadder.

Suddenly, Ash got a look. It was one Serena knew well. It meant he had an idea no one would ever classify as safe or conventional. He turned to his friends and grinned. "And ya know what? I think I'm bringing all of you with me."

Serena's jaw dropped. Clemont's eyes bulged. Bonnie got a huge grin on her face.

"Think about it." Ash stood and kept his eyes on the horizon. "We've done so much lately. I think we deserve a little getaway. You'll love it in Kanto, Bonnie. There will be lots of Pokemon you've never seen."

Bonnie began jumping up and down so fast, she looked less like a pogo stick and more like a jackhammer. The idea was starting to catch on to Clemont. "I can leave ClemBot 2.0 in charge of the gym! He'll do a great job."

Serena was so excited, she almost lost it. A retreat trip to Ash's home? More time spent with…

Her sensible side seized control of her bodily functions and protested. "Ash, a plane ticket all the way to the Kanto Region… that's a lot of money."

"She's right." Clemont scratched his head with his AipomArm. "Even on a Gym Leader's salary, I wouldn't have enough."

Ash smiled. "Remember all that prize money I got for beating Diantha?"

Serena gasped. "You mean it?"

"Totally. You guys will love my mom. She's a great cook, and there's plenty of room at my house… well, OK, it's not a mansion, but we'll manage. I'll call ahead and make arrangements. We can take it easy for a few weeks. And Clemont can do science stuff with Professor Oak all day. It'll be great."

Clemont almost died. "THE Professor Oak?! Ash, you-you-you… you don't KNOW him?!

"Pfft, know him? The man's practically my grandfather."

Clemont squeed. Bonnie seized Serena's hands and began dancing in a circle singing, "We're going to Ash's house! We're going to Ash's house!"

Serena's sensible side was dethroned. "That sounds great!"

As the sun began to fade from the sky, and the lights in the city came to life, Ash started to think at a million miles an hour. "We'll need to reserve a flight, probably a layover in Hoenn, and we'll need to… to pack…oh. Oh man. This might not work."

They looked at him, slightly downfallen. Ash explained. "We'd need Serena's mom and Clemont's dad to approve. I had Alexa with me when I came here. No responsible adult will ever let us go by ourselves."

"Hmm hm hm hmm..." Clemont laughed a dangerous laugh. They all looked at him. Despite there being no nearby light source to reflect, as he pushed his glasses up his nose, blades of light danced on the lenses. "Well, then, we'll just have to drag an _irresponsible_ adult along with us! And I think I know who…"

(-o-)

Professor Sycamore though it was the best idea he'd ever heard. He was packed in less than 5 minutes, and wasn't even 100% sure where he was going.

In the end, they weren't the only ones leaving on vacation. Trevor, Tierno, and Shauna bid the gang a heartfelt farewell, and left on a ferry for the Alola Region. Sawyer and Miette, (now rather _close_ friends,) took the same flight as the rest, getting off at the layover in Rustboro to visit Sawyer's home in Petalburg.

As the plane pulled into Veridian City, Ash wondered if this had been such a good idea. He had called ahead to explain the situation, but he didn't know if his plan would work.

And now wasn't the time to doubt his scheme, because phase one was in effect.

Phase One was waiting at the airport, just as agreed. He hadn't changed one bit in 6 years: same easy confidence, same smug smile, and, (annoying as it was,) still taller than Ash. Neither Clemont, nor Bonnie, nor Serena, knew him by sight. But Ash did.

"BROCK!"


	4. The Man From Pewter City

Chapter 2

Croagunk, perched serenely on the roll-cage of Brock's Jeep, lost his balance and fell into the back of the car, so startled was he at the arrival of the huge airplane. Brock had, unconventionally, parked a little ways off the tarmac. (Hey, being a gym leader has its perks.) Lots of people were getting off the plane, but soon Ash caught his eye, and they began to make their way over.

Ash. Wow. The guy was taller. Not taller than him, but still. Unnatural. He was dressed in jeans, a black T, blue windbreaker with the zipper undone, a red cap, (was he ever _not_ wearing a hat?) and nice looking running shoes. Ash should have known better than to wear tennis shoes. Pretty soon someone was going to use that awful, overused line, the reason Brock wore boots everywhere. (Hey, Ash, nice TRAINERS! Hahaha -continued annoying laughter-.)

Something else was different about his little buddy, though. Ash was still lithe, but his muscles showed just slightly through the t-shirt, and his eyes were more alert. He'd been training his mind and body. He seemed in-the-moment, and he walked straighter. His face was more serious, but his smile was warmer, more genuine. He'd grown up.

Pikachu was different as well. He was bigger, and perched across Ash's shoulders, watching everything, he seemed _dangerous._ Kalos had definitely made him a better Pokemon. He still looked just as cute, though, and as he leaped onto a little girl walking with Ash, Brock turned his attention to Ash's new companions.

The little girl with Pikachu looked about 9 or 10, with her blond hair done up to the side. She wore a simple brown shirt, and a white skirt with black leggings. First impression: curious, mischievous, and a handful. She had some kind of orange mouse sitting on her head. (When Brock had studied to become a Pokemon doctor, he'd taken a course on Pokemon from other regions. But the course material had said almost nothing about Kalos Pokemon.)

Her older brother stood close at hand. Brock knew an older brother when he saw one; the way he always had one eye on her, his body turned slightly in her direction, in case he needed to rush to her side at any moment, (further evidence she was a menace,) and the physical resemblance was striking as well. The faces, the hair, the placement of the eyes.

The brother seemed a bit of an odd one. He could have been Ash's age, maybe older, and he was wearing… what was that thing, anyway? It looked like some kind of insulated jumpsuit; light blue, with yellow stripes. He had a mostly white backpack, heavy looking- but he wore it like it weighed nothing.

" _He must wear that thing everywhere."_ Brock thought. The kid had wire rimmed glasses that made his eyes look huge, and his hair was more than a little wild. The back looked like he'd combed it with a live grenade, and one jagged blond plume stuck straight up at the top. The color and the shape, ha, funny, _it almost looked like a bolt of…_

Brock was distracted by the girl.

Not the little girl, the _girl_ girl. She was beautiful, with a kind face and a bright smile. She wore a short pink dress with a kind of red vest that went to her waist. Tall stockings and knee high boots spoke of country life, but the red fedora with the thick black band contradicted that. The hat sat atop short-cut hair that was a kind of honey-gold. Brock wondered if Ash had a thing for her. It wouldn't have surprised him. She _was_ good looking. Although, to his knowledge, Ash had never had a thing for _any_ girl. Brock revoked his previous thought. It _would_ have surprised him.

Ash came in running. The hug almost bowled over the taller friend. "Hey big guy!"

Brock laughed. "Heya, bro. Long time."

Ash pulled away, his smile fading just a tad. "Yeah. Too long."

Nodding, Brock looked up. "So, who're your friends?"

The trio behind Ash had caught up. The little one sprung forward. "Hi! I'm Bonnie! Nice to meet you! This is my big brother, Clemont!"

The brother managed to catch his breath. "Hi there. Pleasure, ( _wheeze_ ) to meet you, ( _gasp_ ) sir."

The boy straightened up and looked him straight in the eyes. Those eyes… there was something strange about those eyes, he couldn't place where he'd seen that before…

Pikachu, upon seeing Brock, sprung from Bonnie's arms and onto Brock's shoulders. "Hey there, bud. You looking for one of these?"

Seemingly out of nowhere, Brock produced a homemade PokeTreat. Pikachu let out a happy "Kaa!" and seized the morsel, beginning to dine, only to spit it out again, sputtering. Brock laughed. "Sorry, I think May made that one. Here, try this." He handed Pikachu a second treat, which the mouse smelled carefully, before digging in, with no ill effects.

Ash cracked a wide grin. "Her cooking hasn't got much better, then?"

Brock grinned back. "'Fraid not." He leaned in close to Bonnie, making her laugh as he whispered, "But don't tell her I said that."

Standing, he turned to the remaining nameless friend. "And who's this pretty thing?"

She blushed. "Oh, I'm Serena. I'm a Pokemon Performer."

"Pleased to meet you, everyone." Brock stood tall, letting his ego out just a little. "My name is Brock, and I'm Gym Leader at the Pewter City Gym."

Suddenly, something purple and orange sprang from the Jeep and attacked Brock. Seeing it from the corner of his eye, he dodged just in time, grabbing Croagunk's wrist and attempting to immobilize the Poison-Type in his arms. But the frog kicked Brock in the stomach and twisted from his grip, springing high in the air before coming down with a powerful Poison Jab. Brock jerked back, the glowing purple finger missing by just an inch. As the inaccurate amphibian crashed to the ground, the poison in the move shot into the dirt, and Brock pounced on him, covering him with his whole body.

The audience to this strange melee consisted of three kids from Kalos, watching with open mouths and wide eyes, and one kid from Kanto laughing and cheering, "Yeah, Croagunk! Go for the legs!"

"Not helping, Ash," Brock mumbled as he tried to wrestle his Pokemon into submission.

For a moment, it seemed that Croagunk had quieted down under Brock. The moment his trainer began to relax his grip, however, the frog shot out of captivity, perching atop Brock's Jeep and letting out a long "Crooao," before charging a Poison Jab attack and launching off at Brock. The attack scored a direct hit…

...On the button of the Pokeball Brock had pulled from his vest. The look on the dismayed Pokemon seemed to say, "You cheater." as his form glowed red, broke into a stream of light, and was sucked into the ball.

Brock sighed. "Sorry about that. He's a little… temperamental."

Ash began to clap, and the rest of the group followed suit. "Gotta say, Brock," Ash said as he walked to get in the Jeep, "that move with the Pokeball was inspired. Never saw it coming."

Brock gave a short laugh as he climbed into the driver's seat. "Yeah, well, unfortunately, Croagunk's just as clever as you remember. That trick won't work twice. Hop in, everyone."

Ash jumped into the passenger's seat, and the three seats in back were claimed by Clemont, Serena, and Bonnie.

"Hey, Ash," Brock had a thought as he started the Jeep, "I thought you said you were bringing _four_ people. What, were you counting Pikachu?"

Brock's four passengers all gave a jolt, then a look of dread crept onto every face. Ash seemed to sweat a little. "Oh, crap."

In the rearview mirror, out on the horizon, Brock saw something that made no sense. Some kind of dust cloud, as if there was a stampede on the tarmac. Turning around, he pulled a pair of binoculars from the glove compartment and tried to pull the object into focus. "Do you guys see that? It looks kinda like…"

"A middle aged man in a blue coat carrying five or six suitcases and running like a maniac?"

Brock looked incredulously at Serena. "How did you know-"

Ash and Serena looked at each other, and then they both looked at Clemont, who looked at the both of them. Bonnie gave an exasperated sigh, and said in a tired voice, "We forgot the Professor."

(-o-)

Unsurprisingly, Sycamore wasn't even a little upset. Just relieved he'd caught the Jeep in time.

He shook hands with Brock, introducing himself, and the two loaded the luggage into the back of the car. Then there was the small matter of where Sycamore was going to sit. There were only three seats in back, and two up front.

Clemont, as usual, had the obvious solution. "Bonnie can ride on my lap." he said, shifting in his seat.

Ash jumped up. "The professor can sit up front. Here, slide over Serena."

"Oh! Uh, yeah, ok…" She slid into the middle, with the siblings on one side, and Ash on the other.

As Brock started the Jeep, he caught sight of something in the overhead mirror. A splash of color in Serena's cheek, just a hint of… blush?

An idea came to Brock then, so alien and impossible he nearly hit a concrete divider coming off the runway. He filed away his suspicion as he began a spot of conversation with the Professor.

"So, your work on Mega Evolution, has it had any bearing on the Regional Phenomenon?"

"I assume you mean why Mega Stones, only found in Kalos, can aid a Pokemon from another region in Mega Evolution?"

"Yeah, I've always wondered about that."

"Well, I recently published a very controversial article on the very subject, regarding the origin of Mega Evolution, in which I postulate that the formation of the Mega Stone, is in fact, dependent on only two variables, being, the first, the presence of a geographical anomaly that some call…"

Ash turned to Serena. "Man, the conversation just took a turn for the Drowzee. Eh, Clemont?"

He looked to find Clemont leaning toward the front excitedly, hanging on every word.

Ash sighed, rolling his eyes. "I should have expected that. Ah, well."

He looked out the window, letting the scenery flash by in a blur. He thought about what was waiting for him in Pallet Town. Oak would be there, and his mother, Misty might come over for a visit, was Tracy still working for Professor Oak? There was so much he was excited for, but so much he had chosen to hide… 5 years worth of secrets that his Kalos friends would find out about eventually. Ash sighed. He wanted to have this time. Becoming Champion had done enough to change the way his friends treated him. If they found out about the rest of it…

Since he was ten. That's how long he'd been on the road. He'd caught dozens of Pokemon, competed in League after League, and he hadn't done too badly, all things considered. Plus there was the matter of Prophecy, saving the world, battling ancient superpowers, standing against godlike entities and whatnot. And Ho-Oh missing… Ash was still getting flack for that.

No. It was just… too much. Let them believe his journey had begun for the first time in Kalos. He'd called ahead to make sure everyone knew. Many of them had been against hiding the truth, but they respected his wishes. Besides Pikachu, all of his Pokemon he'd not caught in Kalos would stay at Oak's preserve for the duration of the retreat.

Turning away from the window, he looked at his friends. Clemont, listening to the Professor with eager eyes, Bonnie and Serena, playing with Pikachu, Dedenne sleeping in Bonnie's little bag.

Ash tried to shake the melancholy from his mind. This was going to be fun.

(-o-)

The ride to Pallet Town was long, and Serena, though secretly wishing he _had_ fallen asleep on her shoulder, was glad Ash _hadn't_ , because she needed to ask Brock something. Checking again to make sure he was asleep, she smiled at the way his cheek was pressed against the window, his mouth just barely open, his breathing light, and easy…

She started when she realized Brock, glancing in the overhead mirror, had caught her staring at Ash while he slept. She blushed furiously, and, trying to remain dignified, leaned forward into the front seat. "Hey Brock?"

He put on a wry smile. "Yeah, Serena?"

She tried to ignore the look on his face. "Um, I wondered… is there anything I should know about… Ash's family? I want to make a good first- I just mean..." She tried to collect her thoughts as Brock's smile began to grow wider. He leaned over to Sycamore, who was rereading his old notes on a kind of wide tablet. The older man looked up as Brock murmured into his ear. Serena couldn't catch all his words, but could guess she was the butt of the joke, from the way the Professor laughed and laughed, glancing back to Serena with eyes full of mirth.

Brock chuckled as Sycamore went back to his reading. "Not to worry, Serena. I felt the same way when I first met Philena's family."

If Serena had been pink before, she was _red_ now. Brock smiled at this, silently wondering at the idea that a girl was crushing on _Ash._ On Ash! Of course, that wasn't fair. Ash was a truly impressive young man. It shouldn't have surprised him as it did. But still. _Ash._

His smile slowly faded as a thought came to him. "Now that you mention it, Serena, there is one thing you should know."

The pokemon performer leaned back into the front seat as Brock visibly prepared himself to talk about a hard subject. His eyes stayed on the road ahead as he began.

"Ash's father never came back from his Pokemon journey a long time ago. There's no bitter feelings; Ash's father was a great role model, and Ash wants to be just like him. It's just… painful. Try not to mention it."

Serena nodded, filing the information away, so she wouldn't forget. Very nervous now, she spoke in a low voice. "Any advice for meeting… his mother?"

Brock's smile came back, full power. There was a spark in the thin contours of his flint eyes. "Don't worry, Serena. You're going to love Delia."


	5. Her name is Delia

Chapter 3

Clemont loved his sister. Without question, without reserve, without exception, he would do anything to keep her safe, make her comfortable, or help her be happy. He was an amazing big brother.

So when the Jeep finally pulled to a stop in front of their destination, he didn't complain, or sigh in relief, or explode out of the confines of the car, like a freed prisoner. Not even after several hours of Bonnie sitting on his lap, cutting off the circulation to his legs, and chattering nonstop about how excited she was to be in Kanto, and absolutely SHATTERING his eardrums with a shriek that woke Ash up with a scared yell, and made Brock swerve.

(She had seen her first Ponyta, galloping through a field as they drove by. Sure, the sight was majestic, but _ouch._ ) Clemont had simply thanked Brock, let Bonnie out of the car, and then climbed out like a civilized human being.

Ash's home was quaint. There was little other way to put it. It was small compared to Serena's house, it was tiny compared to Prism Tower… it was diminutive compared to most anything, actually. It was tidy, surrounded by a whitewashed picket fence. The red shingles were bright, despite the fading of age, and the white walls, while spotless, seemed soft- not blinding, in the afternoon sun.

No matter what direction you looked in, the view was the same. The occasional Pallet Town dwelling, vibrant green fields, viridescent mountains… and not a living creature in sight. A slight wind added a delicious cool to compliment the warm glow of the solar light. The air was crisp and fresh, with just a touch of… was that the ocean?

Stretching his aching back, Clemont made his way to the back of the Jeep to help with his luggage. He watched with a wry smile as Brock attempted to hoist his backpack, a look of disbelief on the gym leader's face as he realized just how heavy the thing was. Clemont took it gently from Brock's arms, slinging it over his shoulders and relishing in its familiar weight.

He noticed Ash standing a ways off. The Kalos Champion had reclaimed his own backpack, his blue suitcase in one hand, and Serena's red suitcase in the other. He was gazing straight up with a peculiar look on his face. Walking to his friend, Clemont glanced skyward to find what Ash saw.

It was some kind of Pokemon, with wide wings and a sharp beak. Like a tawny kite, riding the thermals without a beat of its wings. It had a showy plume on its head, and it seemed to be looking down at Ash. Clemont heard his friend say, in a soft, amazed voice...

"He came back."

Clemont thumbed the yellow control on his pack's strap, and a sleek blue HUD folded outward and covered his eyes. His view was magnified, and as the scanner took specs on the Pokemon, an automated voice sounded in Clemont's earpiece.

 _"Pidgeot._ _3_ _rd_ _stage evolution._ _Male, late adolescent/ young adult. Pidgeot is_ _a large flying-type native to the Kanto and Johto Regions, as well as_ _mountainous spans_ _of Central Kalos. It often displays territorial behavior, claiming_ _an airspace as its own and defending it from winged intruders. It is known as a very regal Pokemon."_

Clemont recalled the HUD and turned to Ash. "Glad to be home?"

Ash seemed to be shaken from a dream. "Wha- oh! Yeah, yeah sorry, I'm… spacing out over here."

Clemont grinned. "Under the circumstances? Perfectly understandable."

Ash smiled back, a little wistful. "C'mon, I'll show you in."

(-o-)

The pair walked back to the group, who were sorting through the various bags, and wondering where Serena's had disappeared to.

"I've got it!" Ash called, jogging to the rest.

Serena blushed. "Thank you, Ash."

"No problem." The boy opened the picket gate with his elbow, leading the way up the garden path to the front door. Setting down his own suitcase, Ash flung open the front door, propped it with his shoe, seized his things and said grandly, "Come on in!"

Brock was too late. "Wait, Ash! Don't-"

Ash took a purposeful step into the doorway… only to run smack into an invisible wall. The party winced as the young Ketchum fell flat on his back with a groan of pain. He lamented, "Heh, should'a seen that coming."

As Serena knelt by his side, Clemont looked up, amazed, as a funny little man with long shoes and rosy spots on his face danced into view, chuckling in a high voice. He had crazy blue hair that stuck out to both sides, and red circles all over his… wait, it was a Pokemon?

Mr. Mime took down the Light Screen with a wave of his hand and a final giggle. Leaping forward, he proceeded to help Ash to his feet, before hugging him tight around the middle with a small sigh. Ash returned the gesture.

The Pewter City Gym Leader let out a grunt. "Mime, you jerk. You haven't seen him in a little over a year, and _that's_ how you say hello?"

" **Hello!** "

The Kalos newcomers jumped a little to hear the pyschic-type talk. Sure, Pokemon had talked to them before with telepathy, and Team Rocket's Meowth had made the event commonplace, but Meowth had never seemed like a normal pokemon anyway. Ash patted Mime on the head and indicated his friends one at a time. "This is Professor Sycamore, Serena, Clemont, and Bonnie. Guys, this is Mr. Mime, my mom's… uh..."

"Housekeeper?" Brock suggested.

"Bodyguard?" Ash retaliated.

"Butler?"

"Walking sideshow?"

"Perpetual hazard?"

"Mascot?"

Brock laughed. "Surrogate son?"

"Hey!"

The group laughed at Ash's indignation, with Mime laughing loudest. The funny Pokemon pushed the door open and beckoned them all in. (With another happy, " **Hello!** ") They trooped haphazardly through a comfortable living room and a narrow hall into a kitchen that smelled like heaven.

The Head Angel was bending over a pot of stew. She was dressed simply, in a green skirt that went to her ankles, and pink, short-sleeved top. Her brown hair was pulled back in a ponytail, so that just a few strands covered her face. As she turned away from the stove towards the hall, her hint of smile turned to a broader one, which froze and turned to a look of surprise and wonder as a hand went to her mouth. Her dark eyes were locked on the young man in front of her. She couldn't speak as Ash filled the silence for her. His voice cracked as he choked out,

"Hey, Mom."

Delia rushed her boy in a speed only a mother knows. He stepped into the embrace, holding her tight as she grasped him desperately. A single tear fell from the face of both mother and son as the moment lapsed into another, and then another, with neither willing to let go.

Finally, she pulled back just enough to hold him at arms length, looking him up and down. Her voice sounded tired, but so happy. "Oh, Ash..."

Ash went to say something, but was interrupted, as his mother swung him around to put him a headlock and rub her fist in his hair as she exclaimed, "I thought I told you to stay out of trouble!"

Their was no escape. Brock snorted, trying to hold back laughter as Ash fought to get free. "C'mon, Mom, not in front of… hey, I didn't _ask_ Team Flare to attack in the middle of my award ceremo- _hey, stop, THAT TICKLES!"_

Rescue came, as it often did, from Pikachu. The electric mouse had been curled up sleeping on the floor of the Jeep, quite forgotten by the weary travelers. Waking up, and finding himself alone, he had wandered into the house to discover his trainer under attack from his own mother. Leaping into Delia's arms and allowing her to pet and coo and fuss over his adorable self, he allowed Ash a brief respite.

Then he static-shocked Ash for leaving him in the car.

Ash glared at his partner. "What? You were sleeping!"

(-o-)

Delia was the kind of person you couldn't help but like. Her smile reminded you of her son; not his mischevious grin, or the cruel slash that appeared when he landed a hit in battle. It was the shine that came when he held Pikachu, or won a gym badge, or, (Serena privately thought, blushing furiously,) gave a present to a friend under a tree of lights.

Delia was introduced to each of Ash's companions as she put the finishing touches on dinner. Brock pulled a pan of puffy rolls from the oven, and the small dining room table was soon crowded and happy. The stew was poured over sticky white rice, and Clemont praised Mrs. Ketchum's culinary ability until she had blushed crimson. The meal stretched on and on, as the group forgot their food in conversation, and periodically resumed eating.

Ash was the most talkative, as he had mastered the art of speaking and chewing at the same time. "So, Brock, do you go back to Pewter after dinner?"

Brock took a sip of water before responding. "Actually, I've got a bit of a break. I'll be staying at Professor Oak's place for a few weeks, and I'll head back to Pewter if there's a challenger, a Pokemon in critical condition at the PokeCenter, trouble at the gym or whatnot."

Ash nodded, then managed to put what was bothering him into words. "I thought Forrest was gym leader at Pewter. Isn't your medical practice full time now?"

Brock put on a wry grin, looking down the table at Delia, who, overhearing, was mirroring Brock's expression. Rubbing the nape of his neck, Brock began, hesitating. "Well, see, Forrest, um… how do I-"

"Fell hard!" Delia laughed out loud, causing Brock to sigh in resignation.

Ash blinked. "Sorry, what am I missing here?"

Brock opened his mouth to elaborate, but Delia cut him off.

"OK!" She burst, obviously practiced at telling this tale, "So, Ash, you remember that cute little girl who lived down the street from us when you were young? Her family had that Dodrio that woke us up every morning and we _hated_ it?"

Ash nodded. "Right, she was like… what, six years old when I first..."

Realizing his mistake, and looking furtively at Clemont, sitting closest to him, Ash sidetracked. "What was her name? Lila? Lucy?"

"Leaf." Brock corrected, raising an eyebrow at Ash's close save. Had he blurted out that he had first left home at age ten, his little scheme would have been over right out of the gate.

"Right!" Said Delia, drawing attention away from Ash's blunder, and continuing the narrative, as Bonnie and Serena stopped whispering back and forth to listen. "So, she got her Pokemon License about a year ago, and the first gym she challenged was Pewter City. Her starter was a Bulbasaur, (and such a cutie too!), and she lost pretty badly. Apparently, Forrest was not as nice to her as he should have been. He claimed she had wasted his time. So Leaf takes off and Forrest thinks that's the end of that..."

Delia continued, growing more and more animated,

" _until,_ about… ah, four months or so later, when she comes back for a rematch. By this time, some of her team had evolved, including her Bulbasaur into Ivysaur, and she had beaten two other gyms. Of course, Forrest hadn't been sitting on his rear for two months, he'd grown stronger too. Apparently, Leaf hadn't thought Forrest would remember her, but he did, and he goaded her on during the rematch. Lo and behold, though, in the rematch..."

"She wastes him?" Ash guessed, looking at Brock for confirmation.

Brock groaned, slapping a hand across his face to cover his eyes. "It was humiliating."

"She _annihilated_ him." Delia said with relish, leaning down to share the moment with Bonnie and Serena, who laughed along with her.

Ash was still confused. "Wait, so, what does this have to with Forrest not being Gym Leader anymore?"

Delia is really enjoying this, now. She leans back in her chair, and with Sycamore and Clemont drawn out of their deliberating and into the story, she has the attention of the whole table. "Forrest gives her the Boulder Badge, and he doesn't just apologize, _he asks to travel with her_. He tells her how she inspired him, and that he has a lot to learn as a trainer. Leaf accepted his offer, and he went with her, leaving the gym in the care of his mother..."

"Who I had to win it back from!" Brock said, in an angry tone that told you he wasn't _really_ angry. "Almost my whole team are Rock-types, and she's a Water-type specialist! It took forever!"

"And when I saw the two of them a while ago," Delia smiled, ignoring Brock, "I discovered Forrest has quite the crush on her! They're so cute!"

Brock huffed. "It was an irresponsible thing to do."

A gleam came into Ash's eye. "Say Brock, didn't you do that very thing when you were first Gym Leader? Meet a talented young trainer and follow him to the ends of the earth?"

Brock was miffed that he couldn't say _who_ that young upstart had been in front of their Kalos friends, and replied sheepishly, "Yeah, but I didn't take off like some lovesick fool, chasing a passing fancy..."

Ash laughed. "No, the way I heard it, you traveled around with him, falling head-over-heels with every eligible young lady you met along the way!"

The diners laughed uproariously, with Brock joining in, and only a handful of them understanding why it was so funny coming from Ash, who knew first-hand.

(-o-)

Brock had made dessert in advance, and while the group enjoyed fruit tart with cream, the table-side discussion turned to sleeping arrangements.

"I talked with Brock on the way over," Professor Sycamore mumbled around a forkful of pecha berry, "and he told me Professor Oak has plenty of room, so I'll get a ride up the hill with him. I've already cleared it with Samuel, so long as my young charges behave themselves and mind their manners," He finished, with a pointed look at the four minors in front of him.

Bonnie nodded vigorously, suddenly very serious. "Oh yes sir! I'll keep an eye on them for you!"

There was a shared laugh amongst the adults, with the other three giving out an indignant, "Hey!" as Ash ruffled Bonnie's hair, hiding her embarrassed look.

The Kalosian genius put a hand on Bonnie's shoulder. "Well, I'll be counting on you!"

Delia smiled. She liked Bonnie. "There's a guest room around the back of the house, and the bed's a queen, so..."

"Bonnie and I can share," Clemont volunteered. "and thank you again for letting us stay, Mrs. Ketchum."

"Don't mention it, Clemont! It feels good to fill that room! Now, for Serena..."

"It's OK, Mom."

Delia turned to look at her son. "Ash?"

"You don't need to put Serena on the couch. She can have my room. No," he laughed, looking at Serena as the performer began to open her mouth, "don't say it, Serena. There's no way I'm letting you sleep in the living room, not when you're my guest. I'll take the couch. My mom will have deep-cleaned my room while I was gone, so just let me grab a few things out of there, and it's yours."

Sycamore cocked an eyebrow. "That's quite the gentleman you've raised, Mrs. Ketchum."

Clemont lightly shoved Ash with his shoulder. "Should I go get your Chateau Cloak?"

"Oh, Mom! I've gotta show you, I got the coolest cape at this place called the Battle Chateau, it's like this elitist battle club for total snobs, it's awesome! I had this battle there..."

Ash went on and on, drawing the eyes of the table, so that no one saw Serena blushing at the prospect of staying in Ash's room.

She told herself it wasn't a big deal. He hadn't stayed there in over a year, his mom had cleaned everything, he just wanted her to sleep in a real bed while she was…

She let out a muffled "Eeep!" at the thought of _sleeping in Ash's bed_. Clemont turned to look at his friend. "Serena? What's up?"

"Huh? Oh! Nothing, no, no, it's… it's fine, I just, heh, I'm fine!"

You know Clemont bought that.

(-o-)

Bonnie surreptitiously watched her brother look at Serena, then look down thoughtfully, and then at Ash, the lenses of his glasses flashing in that unnatural way. Little Sister grinned. Well, well, well. Maybe her big brother wasn't quite as clueless as she'd assumed.


	6. Bedtime in Pallet

Chapter 4

Ash had misspoken. His mother hadn't deep-cleaned his bedroom.

She'd given it a makeover.

Delia had decided that the old furniture in Ash's room had had a good run, but that it was time for something new. That meant a new desk, bedside table, bed-frame, mattress, bedclothes, and an enlargement of that tiny closet door.

The furnishings were done in a dark wood, to compliment the royal blue of the walls. (Oh, yeah. She'd also had the room painted.) The room was nice. Like a hotel room.

Just not nice enough to keep Panchum from jumping on the bed.

(-o-)

After dessert, Ash had run to get his things from his room, and Delia had confiscated everyone's Pokeballs. Which had been an unexpected move on her part.

She explained that she believed in what she and Ash called the Pikachu Policy- as long as they stayed at the Ketchum's house, their Pokemon would not be cooped up in a ball.

Delia had taken the time to become acquainted with each of their Pokemon; she had loved them all. Beginning with Clemont, she'd scratched Luxray behind the ears, laughed at Chespin's antics, and rubbed the top of Bunnelby's head.

When Serena's turn had come, Delia had shaken hands with Braixen, complimenting her sleek ear-fur. Panchum had taught Delia his secret handshake and let her try on his sunglasses, and Sylveon had wrapped both of Delia's arms tight in her ribbons, before giving a happy bark and jumping up and down. And of course, Dedenne had introduced himself as well, succumbing to relentless tickles and adoration.

(Pikachu was a little jealous, but he was used to this.)

When Ash had come downstairs, however, was when the fun had truly begun. They went out to the backyard for that part. Hawlucha had launched into his full-blown routine, flipping and flexing, ending it with a challenge to Delia to arm wrestle. She politely declined. Talonflame had been almost as bad, lighting up like a bonfire and turning circles in the air. Showoffs.

Ash barely managed to save his mother from a slimey hug from Goodra, but she still ran a hand along the Rain Dragon's back. Noivern had scared her a little at first, but she soon learned what a softie he was.

Greninja, predictably, had hung back until all the others had gone. Though he was quiet and aloof, Delia seemed to really like him. She said to Ash and Serena, "He reminds me of you, Ash." The two teens had shared a knowing look. There'd be time to explain the rest of it later.

(-o-)

Now, Serena scolded her panda for the millionth time. "Panchum! Stop jumping on the bed, that's not polite!"

Panchum was sad that Serena didn't appreciate his talent, but he was certain that if he could just pull off his triple-backflip-pivot, she would see the light, praising his amazingness and allowing him to jump all he liked. He prepared himself for the trick, bouncing up once, twice, aaaand…

Panchum was caught in midair by a flurry of soft white strands. He twisted and squirmed, but he couldn't get free. On the ground, Sylveon barked a disapproving bark, letting him hang in the air for a minute to think about what he'd done.

In truth, an amazing acrobat and daredevil, (like Panchum,) being taken down by something as trivial as a bunch of fairy ribbons was a little humiliating. But Panchum was careful to control his thoughts. When Sylveon's ribbons made contact with a body, they could read the entity's emotions. That didn't necessarily mean reading minds, but if she caught one hint of the word "girly" in his brain, she'd slam him into the ceiling, and then the floor, and then the ceiling again, continuing at blinding speed until he was reduced to a gibbering vegetable, and she could nap on his body like a twitching, agonized throw-pillow.

This was not an agreeable circumstance.

Sylveon let him down.

Panchum quit jumping on the bed.

(-o-)

"Alright, what's bothering you?"

Clemont gave a tired sigh. Thought Bonnie was near seven years younger than him, she had been taking care of him for most of his life. She was a terrifying, goofy, unreal hybrid of mother and sister. And Clemont should have learned long ago to never underestimate her ability to tell what he was thinking.

His hand went to the back of his neck, rubbing the skin and further messing up his hair. "Well, I just noticed something odd at dinner, that's all."

Bonnie reclined on her side of the queen mattress, watching her brother put Chespin and Bunnelby to bed in a nest of old blankets on the floor. The mischievous animal inside of Bonnie sat up, its ears perked, its eyes gleaming. She turned up the childish innocence to 11. "Oh? What?"

Clemont placed his glasses in their case, and put them by the alarm clock. "I'm not sure it means anything, but..."

Bonnie huffed. "Spit it out, bro!"

Clemont ignored her. She knew perfectly well that, in the case of a delicate matter, he would take his time when formulating his words. Even in a casual conversation, he was the opposite of his sister, who continued to propose marriage to random strangers on behalf of her brother, even _after_ learning why it wasn't socially acceptable.

The young gym leader walked to the window, throwing open the panes, and letting the cool night air soothe him. Leaning out the window, he rubbed Luxray's favorite spot, just behind his left ear. The Gleam Eyes pokemon was a little too big to stay in the house, even more so considering how cozy the Ketchum's home was. So Luxray was content to sleep outside, just under the guestroom window.

Clemont stared out at the starry sky, thinking about everything that had happened. Such a huge chapter of his story had ended with the defeat of the Megalith, but he couldn't help but feel that there was even more coming. As if the sequel to something so monumental couldn't possibly be so small as a simple getaway in the country. As if a storm were brewing, and there was nothing he could do but wait for it to arrive. The feeling was epic, foreboding, frustrating, and exciting all at the same time. But above all, it made it hard to think.

Finally deciding what he wanted to say, he patted his quadrupedal companion on the head before turning back into the room. "Bonnie, have you noticed anything… odd, about Serena?"

Bonnie tried to act like she wasn't grinning hugely on the inside. "Serena? No, why?"

"So she hasn't mentioned anything bothering her? Anything at all?"

"Mmmmm… nope. Why?"

Clemont's eyes flashed.

(-o-)

Few people could hang out with Clemont for long without noticing the strange way that light would often reflect across his glasses. Not in a natural way, but in a way that seemed intentional, like when he got an idea and laughed evilly, or when he was determined, or starting a battle. But there was a secret about him that only Bonnie knew. That the light actually came from his eyes.

The way his glasses refracted it made it hard to tell… unless he wasn't wearing his glasses. Which he almost always was. Because he wasn't comfortable with people other than his sister knowing. It wasn't a big deal- it didn't make him a superhero or anything… not to him, at least. But Bonnie held the information in the prideful section of her heart where she had enshrined her brother.

The knowledge that he was electric. Right to his core.

(-o-)

The light dissipated, and he moaned, flopping comically onto the bed. "Am I the only sane one around here?"

Bonnie thumped him with a pillow. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"I mean, everyone I've met recently or hang around with is certifiably insane."

"Ladies and gentlemen, I give you the King of Drama..."

"Think I'm kidding? Ash is uncharacteristically wistful, and is almost certainly hiding something. Serena is nervous for no good reason, jumpy, blushing… not her at all. She can be shy, but she's never so unsure. You," he paused, giving the goofball in the Tyrantrum-pajamas a pointed stare, "are _definitely_ up to something. Delia is unbelievably nice, to the point where it shouldn't be allowed. And to top it all off, Brock seems to treat his position as gym-leader like a trophy that can be stolen or given away to just anyone, _plus_ he seems to think that a pokemon that randomly attacks its trainer can be classified as trained. I'm the only one around who seems normal, and I'm a bona-fide Mad Scientist."

Bonnie giggled. "Well what about Professor Sycamore?"

"Please, I think we both know I could go on for days about the Professor's eccentricities."

The pair laughed.

(-o-)

He didn't mean to offend the couch. Really. It was a nice couch. It was nothing personal, but seriously… ouch.

It had been almost an hour since his mother had bid him goodnight. He'd waited long enough. Rolling off the couch, he crept out of the living room, pausing at the coffee table to lightly tap the wet nose of his yellow companion, waking him from his doze. As Ash proceeded to the kitchen, Pikachu rolled 'round on his back, yawning soundlessly, and then following his master, with a _pitter-patter_ of clawed paws, and the _swish_ of a jagged tail.

Ash may have spent most of his childhood away from home, but he knew this house. The screen door only made that awful squeaking noise if you opened it too wide. In one swift motion, he opened the door the minimum required to fit his frame through, sidestepped outside, paused to let the electric rodent out after him, then closed the door again. No need to lock the door behind him. If someone managed to get inside without alerting either Ash, Mr. Mime, Greninja, Hawlucha, Luxray, Pikachu, Talonflame… (well, you get the idea,) -in that case, they could go ahead and steal everything in sight. In Ash's mind, they'd earned it. Just like, if they were _caught_ breaking in, (the most likely outcome,) they'd earned the 14-way smackdown that they were gonna get.

The quarter moon was bright, but the sparse cloud cover that drifted across its celestial lens cast down on the small house a strange, dreamlike pattern of shifting shadows and pearl radiance. The grass, soft under Ash's feet, seemed to dance with the sky, the slender blades turning from emerald to ebony in the space of a box-step.

Passing Luxray, curled up under the siblings' window, Ash made it to the lean-to shed built on the side of the house. With Pikachu playing sentinel, (watching the darkened windows for movement,) Ash pulled the canvas-and-rope mess out from under a pile of garden tools. As he closed up the shed, a pair of twin beams, like flashlights, fell on his countenance and made him start. He laughed at himself inwardly. He should've known he wasn't sneaky enough to keep from waking Luxray. Squinting into the Gleam Eyes, he murmured, "It's OK, Ren. Go back to sleep."

Satisfied, the lights quickly switched off and on again in a literal blink, then slowly dimmed and died as the big Pokemon settled back down, his ears and tail giving the occasional twitch, back and forth.

Ash jogged farther from the house, the metal trappings of his tangled burden giving the occasional _clink_ in the dark. Pikachu followed his friend, matching his pace, and looking up curiously at the conglomerate that Ash had thrown over his shoulder. In time, the duo reached a pair of trees not too far from the house, and technically on the property owned by Ash's mother.

In one tree, a huge falcon roosted, its fiery plumage accented with black markings. Talonflame did not wake at Ash's approach. In the other, a blue amphibious form slept, laying out on a longish branch. Greninja sensed Ash's presence in his sleep, but saw no sign of danger to justify awaking from slumber.

And under this second tree, laying against it with his clawed hands behind his head, a small luchador hummed a quiet tune. He had the image of a hooked beak and a feathery cape, which were both part of his physiology. A small smile was on Hawlucha's face, and, upon opening his yellow eyes and discovering his master, the smile widened.

For the most part, Ash had to untangle the hammock by himself. Hawlucha and Pikachu, though they had the best of intentions, really just made it harder. Once he'd gotten it straightened out, however, the Wrestling Pokemon's bulging muscles, combined with Pikachu's tenacity, made setting the thing up much easier than it had been when Ash had been all alone. And nine. And skinny.

It was a warm summer night, and Ash's white tank and black cloth shorts meant he could feel the cooling breeze all over. As he climbed into the hammock, he was suddenly overcome with emotion. He lay on his back, staring up at the endless stars, and remembered the first time he'd done this.

(-o-)

When Ash's father had discovered that the property he'd purchased for a house with his new bride encompassed two lone, young trees not too far from each other, he'd gone out and bought a hammock that day. Years later, both the trees and his boy had grown up: the trees sturdy and reliable, Ash precocious and endearing. And so Mr. Ketchum had, one fateful night, set up the hammock, with the slightly detrimental help of his son.

Just as Pikachu was now curled up on Ash's chest, Ash had lain atop his father, listening to his heartbeat, and rising and falling with his breathing, as the man pointed at the stars and told Ash stories of Pokemon. Pokemon who had incredible power. Power to tow continents, or plow valleys. Pokemon who guarded ancient knowledge, or avenged great evil, or watched over the innocent and pure of heart.

Pokemon who lived in the deepest oceans, or at the peaks of the coldest mountains, mountains so tall, you could reach up and, like picking an apple off a tree, pluck a star from the heavens. And if you took that star home, and put it under your pillow, when you woke, the star would be gone.

 _But,_ if you faked being asleep, and lay very quiet and still, then Jirachi would come down from the night sky, flying through your window to take back the star you'd stolen, and return it to the heavens. She made a sound as she flew, Ash's father had said, like golden chimes and running water. And if you could catch Jirachi at it, catch a glimpse of her before she turned invisible, or flew away scared, she would barter with you. A wish for your star.

Ash and his father would talk and talk about what they would wish for. Sometimes, they would speak of worldly things, of all they could ever want. And other times they spoke of all the good they could do, and the difference they could make.

There had been many warm nights spent in that hammock with his father. Each of them was a cherished memory in Ash's heart. And when, after his father's disappearance, the sorrow had become to much, Ash would go outside. He would set the hammock up, struggling all alone, but stoic in his resolve. He would curl up in the soft folds, so empty without his father. And he would cry. Cry until the sun returned to dry his tears.

On those dark nights, Ash had sometimes looked at the stars, and whispered his wish. To become a Pokemon Master. To make his father proud. To be a good man, like him.

The old hammock swayed back and forth in the breeze, lulling Ash to sleep. He fell into dreamless oblivion with a question on his mind.

Had he done it?

Had he made his father proud?

(-o-)

Unbeknownst to the Kalos Champion, two sets of eyes watched him sway between those trees, bathed in moonlight and shadow. One pair was keen, and sharp, belonging to the black dragon perched on the roof. Noivern's huge ears swiveled, taking in the night sounds for a great distance in every direction. He watched his trainer, and he saw his friends: Pikachu, sound asleep on Ash's stomach- Talonflame, with his head tucked under one broad wing- Hawlucha, laying back against rough tree bark with a smile on him as he slept- Greninja, almost invisible where he lay, shrouded in an almost unnatural shadow.

The second pair of eyes, on the other hand, saw only Ash. Clear blue, framed by honey-gold hair, they looked on with a sad smile, and a hint of longing.


	7. Good Morning, Serena!

Chapter 5

There is something scary about realizing you don't know where your pet is. Because if your Glameow isn't right next to you, or in your lap, it could be anywhere. Doing anything. It's probably ripping your bedroom to shreds, or picking a fight with the neighbor's Herdier, because there's no way it's just taking a nap in the sun. No, it has to be creating some disaster for you to deal with later.

A similar terror seized Clemont when, upon rising from sleep, he found that Bonnie was _not_ laying the other way on the bed, sticking her feet in his face, and was _not_ brushing her teeth in the bathroom across the hall, and was _not_ changing out of her Pjs in the closet.

The house could collapse at any second.

Which was why Clemont came dashing into the kitchen like a maniac at 7:42 a.m., his glasses askew and the buttons of his sleep-top in all the wrong button-holes. It was a miracle his pants weren't on backwards. Or missing entirely.

"Ah, there you are, Clemont! Now we're just missing one. Come have some breakfast, dear."

Rather embarrassed, Clemont nodded his silent thanks to Delia. He quickly adjusted his glasses and began fixing his buttons. Pulling out a chair, the boy sat down next to his sister, who looked up at him with big eyes, noisily munching on a piece of toast.

The table was full of food. Plates of fluffy scrambled eggs, buttery toast, a pitcher of cold milk, and a bowl of sliced berries.

"We don't usually drink milk, but Ash told me it's common practice in Kalos." Delia leaned over to snatch a piece of toast, then took quick steps out of the room, a simple handbag over one shoulder. "I have errands to run, but I'll be back in time for lunch. Tell Serena good morning for me, and- oh, Bonnie?"

"Yes?" The little girl perked up, cocking her head to the side like a Fletchling.

"Make sure Ash eats something."

Bonnie saluted. "I've been doing it for over a year, ma'am."

Laughter as the front door closed.

Clemont looked around the kitchen, peered into the living room, and saw the empty couch. He turned to Bonnie. "Where _is_ Ash?"

Bonnie pointed out the back window.

(-o-)

It was like a dance. The footwork so fast, the pair matching each other step for step. Hands up, like boxers. Quick blows were exchanged like pleasantries, light punches too quick to follow with the eye. As Greninja's foot swung around at head level, Ash ducked under the kick as though it had been scripted, then owned the crouch like a charging Gogoat, and rushed with a right cross. Greninja jumped up to avoid the blow, then reached down in the air to push down Ash's head.

Ash accepted the contact, crouching down and then exploding upward, throwing Greninja off. A blur of white, red, and green rushed across the grass toward the trainer. Before reaching Ash, Hawlucha left the ground, spinning his leg at Ash's face. The boy's forearms came up to block the kick, then X-blocked downwards as Hawlucha dropped the momentum and attacked from below, throwing punches like he'd never run out.

Ash managed to grab Hawlucha's wrist, and used his size to his advantage. He threw the luchador in Greninja's general direction, hoping the two made contact as he turned his attention to Pikachu, who was shooting at him across the grass.

The rules of this game were simple; everyone V Ash, and Ash's pokemon couldn't use their attacks. Each of Ash's pokemon had a time limit, and if Ash couldn't throw off an attacker before time ran out- say, 30 seconds for Pikachu, a minute for Greninja, etc.- then another pokemon could join the brawl. When Ash was too tired to continue, or when everyone was sitting on top of him, the game was over.

Truth be told, when Ash had first invented this game, (on the road in Kalos,) he hadn't been very good at it. It had mostly been an excuse to roughhouse and goof around. However, as time had worn on, the mock combat had become more intense, as Ash had become more proficient. They still went easy on him, but… less easy.

Ash's fighting style was as unorthodox and sporadic as his battling style. No concrete martial art held dominance, and quite often it seemed Ash was making it up as he went along- again, just like what he did in pokemon battle.

There was a myriad of reasons for the mock fights. It kept both Ash and his pokemon active, and it was fun. It also raised reaction time. An unexpected move from an opponent could sometimes cause a trainer to freeze up. Sparring helped Ash be able to assess a situation, and quickly reply in kind. Above all, Ash loved training that required as much work from him, or more. It brought him closer to his pokemon. And to himself.

(-o-)

As Pikachu flew into the air, swinging his tail towards Ash's defensive stance, Bonnie's view of the fight was interrupted by her brother. Clemont was going from window to window in the kitchen, closing the blinds. The lights weren't on, and absent of sunlight, the room became quite dark.

"Hey!" Bonnie made a face from her chair. "I was watching that, ya know."

Clemont gave his sister a look. "Shh. I'm conducting an experiment."

Bonnie's irritation left her, replaced with interest. "What kind?"

"Just stay quiet, before and after it happens. I don't know, it might be nothing."

As Clemont sat down to eat, his sister puzzled as to what he had in mind. All he'd done was close the windows. What experiment could he mean? She contented to sit in the dark and nibble on her toast, waiting for something to happen.

(-o-)

Three-and-a-half pieces of toast later, It happened. It walked into the kitchen with a stretch and a yawn, wearing a lacy white slip, and blinking in the darkness. Sylveon was at her heels, looking just as bleary eyed.

"You guys?" Serena looked at the siblings sitting at the table, Bonnie staring at her, Clemont reading a newspaper and sipping a glass of milk. The Gym Leader looked up. "Oh. Hey, Serena."

Scooping Sylveon into her arms, she walked over, eyeing the food in the dim light. "Who made breakfast? And why are we eating in the dark?"

Before Bonnie could say a word, Clemont had the answer out. "Mrs. Ketchum made it. It's good, come have some."

Serena just looked at Clemont. "But why is it dark?"

Again Bonnie went to answer, and again Clemont was too fast. "Oh, I don't know. The lights were off."

The Kalosian Princess gave a tired sigh. Sometimes Clemont could be so eccentric. It was endearing, but at the same time… "Well then, Genius, maybe you could open a window?"

"Hm? Oh, the windows. Good idea."

Silence. She waited. He sat there and read. In the dark. Totally oblivious.

Bonnie was grateful for the lack of light, for she was fighting so hard to keep from laughing that it would have been clearly visible. Over the course of the bizarre back-and-forth, she had realized what Clemont was doing. This was a level of scheming he rarely resorted to, but when he did, it was simple and effective.

Serena finally gave up. She sighed, putting Sylveon in Bonnie's arms and striding both to the window, and into Clemont's trap. "Sometimes you two are the funniest… where's Ash?"

She threw the open the blinds. The sunlight made her squint at first, but the moment passed and she could see what she was meant to.

Ash. Kickboxing.

Without a shirt on.

(-o-)

It wasn't a huge deal. Or it shouldn't have been.

The four had been swimming. Plenty of times. I wasn't as if Serena had never seen him like this. But Clemont had chosen his target well. Serena was half asleep, slightly confused, and not fully dressed herself. Unbeknownst to Clemont, (though it wouldn't have surprised him,) she had stayed awake thinking about him, and recently awoken from a dream about the time they met.

She was a Deerling in headlights, frozen like a Glalie. She couldn't stop staring. His fluid motion, the dangerous look in his eyes, his bare upper half heaving with exhaustion, and yet he kept on fighting, stayed moving, never gave up until he truly couldn't…

Serena's intellect clicked back into place.

The flustered girl with a crush was gone. Her eyes slid towards the breakfast table in a sinister manner. She turned to Bonnie's barely controlled mirth, and Clemont's face hidden behind the morning paper. She sat down across from Clemont, and filled a saucer with milk. Half tempted to throw it in the nerd's face, she placed it on the floor for Sylveon. The pokemon drank nervously. She didn't need her ribbons to tell when her master was agitated.

The Nerd had nerve. Serena had poured herself a bowl of milk over sliced berries and taken several bites before Clemont looked up from his paper and remarked, "Oh, look. Ash is outside."

For a moment, a vein stood out on Serena's temple. Bonnie hid behind her fifth piece of toast. She'd rarely seen Serena like this. She wondered if Clemont would survive.

Probably not.

Certainly not at the rate he was going. Clemont's audacity knew no bounds. Throughout the remainder of the meal, he gave a steady, light commentary on the fight: "Ouch, Goodra's really squeezing him." "I didn't know Ash could jump that high." "Yeesh. You'd think Noivern would hold back a little."

One could observe Serena slowly losing her patience. It was obvious that Clemont was goading her. He smugly watched her core temperature rise, like a Camerupt with a fever.

Trying to remain sweet, as opposed to murderous, she not-so-tactfully changed the topic of discussion. "Have either of you seen Braixen, or Panchum? They weren't in Ash- _my_ room when I woke up."

Clemont, beyond the slight raising of his eyebrows, made no reply. Bonnie, on the other hand, was glad of the opportunity to say something _not_ provocative. "Bunnelby and Chespin were gone this morning, too. And Dedenne. He always says good morning," she added, with a depressed air.

Wanting to stay angry, Serena reluctantly gave in to her Big Sister responsibilities. She patted the top of Bonnie's head. "I'm sure he just didn't want to wake you up. He'll be having fun with the others! You'll see."

Bonnie nodded, a smile returning to her face, and began nibbling another piece of toast.

"Bonnie!" Clemont was no longer a mastermind, but a panicky big brother. "Save some toast for Ash! And have some fruit, bread isn't healthy by itself!"

"But this toast is delicious! There's honey on some of these!"

Clemont sighed exasperatedly. Serena laughed, and risked looking out the window again as the siblings bickered.

(-o-)

At first, Ash was nowhere to be seen. There was only Talonflame, hovering near to Goodra. The Rain Dragon was hunched over in a peculiar fashion…

The lithe teenage form burst from the slippery grip of his opponent, the legs of his black cloth shorts loose and swirling around his knees. Kicking off of Goodra, the boy caught just enough air to reach the low hanging form of the falcon. The Scorching Pokemon gave a frightened beat of his wings, but was too slow. A hand caught a yellow, clawed foot, and without any momentum to speak of, Talonflame was unable to lift Ash into the air. The boy pulled the bird to the ground, and the rules said a grounded Talonflame was a beaten Talonflame.

Ash bushed off his avian friend, and nodded satisfactorily. "One down..."

He turned to Goodra, grimacing. "and one to go."

(-o-)

"So, any plans for today?"

Clemont looked up from his fiddling in his backpack with a screwdriver. Serena was looking at him over the table expectantly, meaning she'd said something, and wanted a response. Crap.

He struggled to process what she'd said, but he'd been in his own little world at the time. He had no idea what she'd asked him. Turning to Bonnie for assistance, he found her doing what he'd expected- watching Ash wrestle with Goodra. No help from this corner…

Serena grinned. "Well?"

Clemont sputtered. "Uh, the thing is… about that, see, I uh..."

The grin grew. "Do you want me to repeat the question?"

"No, no need, it's just that- well..."

Clemont's savior came in through the back door, dripping: not with sweat, but water from a half-formed shuriken. (A crude but effective way to clean off.) The tables turned; one moment, Serena mocked a flustered Clemont, struggling with words. The next, a shirtless, soaked Ash leaned over the kitchen table inches from Serena's face, to snag the last piece of toast just before Bonnie. He returned Bonnie's pouting face with a goofy one of his own, making the little girl laugh, and high-fived Clemont on his way to the fridge.

Clemont's hand made contact with Ash's without Clemont looking, as he couldn't take his eyes off of Serena's priceless expression. How he'd missed the girl's affection for over a year of travel was beyond him. It was so obvious, bare, raw… The way her eyes followed him, the pink that could appear and disappear from her cheeks in an instant. Clemont supposed that when Bonnie said he was clueless, she was closer to the mark then he'd thought.


	8. Quarterfinalist

Chapter 6

 _Rustboro City_

 _12:42 PM_

She hadn't even tried to stop him.

What she _had_ done was roll her eyes, as only she could. She'd flipped her royal blue hair and sighed in her own exaggerated way. She hadn't looked at him, opting instead to gaze out the cafe window at the sparse traffic of midday. And her only words had been?

"Try to not get shot, be back by 3."

Miette was caring like that.

His shoes pounded the blacktop in a steady rhythm, the continual impact distracting Sawyer from the stitch in his side. Initially, the sporadic popping of gunfire had given him a sense of direction. But in time, the noise had ominously ceased.

Hence the cherry-topped bloodhound, leading him on this merry chase through the city.

Slurpuff did not like cities. There were too many odors competing for her attention, too many restaurants and tailpipes and pokemon and sweaty adolescents… like her trainer. However, Slurpuff did have one distinct advantage; her strange obsession with the scent of gun oil. So long as none of the residents of Rustboro was out cleaning their concealed-carry, Sawyer was confident in the Meringue Pokemon's ability to lead him.

The streets were close to empty, and the longer the boy chased after his pokemon, the emptier they became. The citizens of Rustboro knew trouble when they heard it, and they wanted no part of it. Not like Sawyer, who was actively seeking out the line of fire.

The little fluff-ball he was following turned a corner, caught sight of something, and jumped back, running back to her trainer. Her eyes were wide with fear. Sawyer rubbed the top of Slurpuff's head before calling her back to her pokeball. Taking a look around the corner, he cursed quietly, before drawing back and closing his eyes. The machine in his head began to grind its gears, his mind becoming a moving diagram, like something from his notebook.

The situation was pretty simple: across the street a tech shop was being robbed in broad daylight by a bunch of heavily armored goons. There was a black armored truck parked outside, and a masked gunman standing guard near the vehicle.

No other hostiles had been observed in Sawyer's quick look, but he knew there were more. The vehicle's only practical use was as a troop carrier. The prize; expensive technology varying in use, wouldn't need to be loaded out in large containers. This was a civilian retail place, not a warehouse. There wouldn't be enough stock to steal to fill the truck, but anyone daring enough to try this in the middle of the day wasn't stupid enough to not think that through. Hence, more bad guys inside, no more than 12.

Sawyer's mouth made an angry grimace. A store like this wouldn't have any security to shoot at. The gunshots from earlier had probably been to scare away the civilians. He hadn't seen any bodies, but his eyes had caught a flash of scarlet on the asphalt as his head had whipped back around.

Just when you're having hot chocolate with your hot girlfriend, some jerk starts shooting innocent people.

Odds and calculations ran through his head, with chances of being shot higher than the boy would have liked. But cowardice wasn't going to win out. There were few things that set Sawyer off like innocents getting hurt for the sake of profit. Plus, despite the way she cursed Ash Ketchum and his heroic fantasies for the way they'd ensnared her boyfriend, Sawyer knew these selfless antics made Miette happy. After ditching a lunch date just because he'd heard gunfire in the distance, now was not the time to disappoint her.

(-o-)

The sound of Life-Data crashing out of a pokeball filled the eerie silence of a scared city. The noise turned three different things in Sawyer's direction: the eyes of the gunman out front, his cliché clown mask, and the barrel of his gun. Which made sure he didn't notice the giant Wood Gecko climbing up the side of the building across the street.

He never saw the Grass Dragon jump. He never saw what hit him; namely, the huge clawed foot that slammed into him from above, knocking his skull into the sidewalk with a dull sound that said **pain.**

Sawyer strode across the street with purpose, not bothering with cover anymore. This was Hero Mode, not Stealth Mode. A raised hand from the trainer told Sceptile to stay outside and Dragon-Pulse anyone lucky enough to escape. The Hoenn Grass starter wasn't happy about it, but he followed orders.

Sawyer nervously fingered his third pokeball. This was a dangerous idea, and Miette would be really mad later. But the police were nowhere in sight, and he was out of options. Sawyer had never technically field tested this skill, but he was certain of one thing.

The other-worldly power Ash wielded that was Ash-Greninja stemmed from the boy's willingness to go anywhere, do _anything_ for his pokemon. To put himself in their place. To fight for them.

 _Fight with them._

The ball flew into the air, turning end over end.

White.

Red.

White.

Red.

The micro-gyroscopics in the balls surface sent data to the nanocomputer; -intent to release.

The ball burst open.

Aegislash let loose a metallic, unintelligible war-cry. Sawyer set his jaw. No going back.

 _"Aegislash! Wield Style!"_

(-o-)

A giant blue blade ripped through the armor of the truck just as two henchmen came outside with the first load of tech. The vehicle's wreckage instantly burst into flames. The pair of thieves, no strangers to combat, dropped the merch like it was hot, and had SMGs out faster than you could say _Sawyer used Sacred Sword;_ _it's super effective_ _._ Through the iron sights of their weapons, they saw a boy with green hair on the other side of the inferno, holding a golden shield in his left hand, and in his right, a sword with an unblinking eye.

The boy looked up at them,

and his eyes promised death.

(-o-)

The spontaneous bursts of gunfire rang musically across the surface of the shield. Aegislash felt almost no discomfort, and Sawyer didn't falter. He rushed the men with his shield raised, his sword held back as he called, "Night Slash!"

The silver blade faded to a darker and darker violet, until the color was a borderline-black, and the edge flared in dark flames. Sawyer had no great experience in sword-play, but efficient movement charted within his mind translated to his muscles pretty well. Accounting for the weight of the sword, the quickest non-lethal dispatch came to him, and he tensed his right arm. How hard could it be? You just hit them with the blade. Simple. Easy.

Now **go.**

The sword flashed back and forth, the nightmare blade cutting straight through the barrel of one gun as Sawyer's shield arm slammed outward, knocking the second submachine away, and sending the assailant sprawling. The dupe with half a gun had just started to go for his knife when Aegislash pierced him just under the shoulder.

Sawyer had known stabbing the man with a Dark-Type attack would have repercussions. He just hadn't expected _this._ The black flames seemed to fill the wound when the sword was pulled free, neither spreading to the rest of him, nor dying down. The fire wouldn't let him bleed, but it let him feel pain. The man screamed as if his arm had come off, his eyes not seeing Sawyer's pained expression, not seeing the sky above.

They saw a horror.

Sawyer's hand clenched the grip of Aegislash's blade, his knuckles turning pale. It was regrettable, but the man would live. The only one having trouble living was Sawyer, in two senses. He'd have to live with himself for hurting these men, and he'd have to survive the next five minutes.

The second gunman, shield-bashed to the ground, wasn't moving. Sawyer knelt by his side, checking his pulse, then pulling back his eyelids. Knocked out cold, probably hit his head.

It had surprised Sawyer how fast he was. He had failed to account for Aegislash's levitation taking most of the weight off the weapons. In addition, the purple ribbons twined around his arms were flexing to guide Sawyer's arms in the right direction. He and Aegislash were truly one. And it made Sawyer feel…

Alive.

The screaming of the conscious thief was drawing movement from inside the store. "Well," Sawyer muttered, "I can let them come to me…"

The boy began to run at the window.

"Or I can take this to them."

His feet left the ground as Sawyer leapt at the glass. Tucking in his legs, he held up his shield and yelled at the top of his legs.

(-o-)

The balled up form crashed through the glass like it wasn't there. Sawyer hit the ground rolling behind a nearby counter, his legs aching from the landing. But his idea had worked. The men inside, alerted to his presence but not knowing where to look for him, had moved forward with their weapons aimed at the door. The surprise had given Sawyer a few seconds to get into cover.

They knew where he was now, though. He could hear heavy steps coming his way. At close quarters, shooting Sawyer in the legs would be simple, seeing as Aegislash's shield only covered most of his top half. The only viable stratagem was to get in close and keep moving.

Standing with his shield raised, Sawyer vaulted the counter and rushed the nearest gunman. Three shots rang against Aegislash before Night Slash flared through the criminal's body armor and left him writhing on the floor. Many of the store's shelves had been knocked over in the initial raid; what remained would make useful cover. Making a break through an aisle, he began to weave in and out of the veritable maze that was the inside of the store.

All seven of the remaining mercenaries could have easily dispatched Sawyer together. He was just a kid, after all. He couldn't block seven streams of gunfire. But playing hide-and-go-seek meant they had to split up to find him. And one at a time, Sawyer could pick them off as he pleased.

Adrenaline and Aegislash's intuition took over. Rather than following a pattern, per his usual niche, Sawyer had no plan. He did what felt right. He hid and waited for one to walk by, then burst out and caught the man by surprise. He walked slowly and carefully, listening to predict their locations. He ran from a lone enemy with a shotgun, but rushed a pair armed with only handguns.

When the count was down to three jerks left, a siren sounded in the distance. Sawyer smirked. "The blinding speed of our brave law enforcement."

A gunman wearing a ski mask called out, "Leave the stupid kid! We gotta go!"

His companion replied, "The brat blew the truck!"

"So we steal a car!" The supposed leader, slinging his shotgun over his back, pulled open the front door and took one step outside.

Only to be blasted by a beam of auric energy shaped like a winged serpent. Dragon-Pulse lifted the first gunman off his feet, back into his partners in crime, and the law-breaking three-pack flew the length of the store, slamming into the back wall with an impact that shattered plaster and cracked cement. The blast shook the building to its foundations, and all windows that Sawyer _hadn't_ jumped through like a maniac were destroyed.

Sceptile walked in with a smug smile on his face. Sawyer, rising from his hiding place, looked at his friend in exasperation. "All right, you got the last of them. But the score is still 6 to 4."

Aegislash lifted out of Sawyer's hands and into the air, chattering in a metallic garble. His trainer shook his head. "No way I'm splitting my points with you! Then it'd be 3 to 3 to 4. Whose side are you on?"

The clashing return sounded suspiciously like, _"My side."_

"All right fine, you get one point. Then it's 5-4-1. I still win."

The harsh rasp of the huge gecko and the indignant chime of the floating sword-shield made Sawyer laugh. Picking his way through the demolished store, he found two clerks huddled in the back: a middle aged woman with graying hair, and a boy who couldn't have been more than three years older than Sawyer. He nodded to the two of them. "Authorities are on their way. If either of you are hurt, they'll get you to a hospital. If not, they'll want a testimony from each of you. Get out of the building, it isn't structurally sound by now. If you don't want Sceptile to carry you, I suggest you be quick about it."

The pair just stared at him.

"Go!"

They limped to the door without a word.

Sawyer took a few steps to where the trio slammed by Sceptile were crumpled against the wall. Two were clearly unconscious, but the leader was groaning and moving on the ground. Sawyer pulled his shotgun away from him, finding no resistance. Then he gently kicked the man in the head. "Just a tip, bub. Next time, bring a freaking Pokemon."

(-o-)

"You mean to tell me there was no confrontation upon arrival?"

"No sir. All hostiles had been rendered helpless."

A slender hand ran through silvery hair. "Any suspected motives? Third parties?"

"Sorry sir. Not my department."

The head topped in silver nodded. "What about casualties?"

The officer in blue shook his head. "Thankfully, they just roughed up the clerks a little. When they dispersed the crowd, one man was grazed by a bullet.

"Alright then. Take me to whoever stopped these thugs."

Hesitation from the officer. "The vigilante is being interrogated just now, but I'm sure we can-"

"You can get me to him, or my Metagross can."

An auditory gulp from the agent of the law. "Right this way sir."

Steven shook his head as the agitated officer led him down the hallway. The police station was simple, unadorned and imposing. Steven's black sports car was parked outside, its imperfect angle attesting to how fast he'd driven up. The incident wouldn't hit the news until later that evening, but Steven Stone was usually the first to hear of more 'unsavory' business in Hoenn. There were massive implications behind the attempted robbery, and before the police tried to lock up this supposed vigilante, the ex-champion had a few questions to ask him.

(-o-)

Something occurred to Steven as his escort led him past the empty detainment block. "Where are the perpetrators?"

A blank look from the Staff Sergeant.

Steven sighed. "The criminals? The men responsible?"

The lights went on in the Sergeant's head. "They had to be transported to the hospital."

The ex-Champion scoffed. "So the real criminals are being treated for their wounds, but the brave soul who stopped them is being held against his… his… wait, _all of them?_ This guy sent _all of them_ to the hospital? My report said the thieves were, quote, 'armed and dangerous', so how did one civilian..."

Looking rather miffed at Stone's sympathy for the heinous vigilante, the Sergeant paused his quick gait. "Of course they're being monitored, but honestly, in the state their in, they won't be going anywhere for a while."

As Steven took a breath to reply, the pair heard rushing footsteps coming from the front of the station. A female officer with the marks of an advance trooper on her shoulder plates was bearing down on them. Her auburn hair was disheveled, and her face was both annoyed and scared. She came to a stop before them, standing ramrod straight, and giving a smart salute. "Sir! Situation in the lobby, sir!"

The Staff Sergeant saluted back. "At ease, trooper. What's going on?"

"A pokemon trainer came to the front desk demanding to see the suspect from the incident at Morgan and Sylph."

"The vigilante?"

"Affirmative." The trooper looked nervous now, fiddling with her hair. "She, of course, was not allowed to see him, and she continued to harass the officers at the desk. When they called me and my partner in to forcibly remove her..."

A shockwave ran through the floor from the direction of the lobby, as well as high-pitched, masculine scream.

The Staff Sergeant decided to ignore Steven Stone's grin. "Understood. Take us there."

(-o-)

When Steven had heard that the police couldn't handle a disgruntled trainer in the lobby, he'd been amused.

Now that he was watching the spectacle, he couldn't keep from laughing.

Admittedly, the girl _was_ terrifying. Her arms crossed over her chest, she hadn't moved from her spot the whole time. Her pokemon had required no further instruction. Her blue cat, ( _'That's a Meowsitc,'_ Steven thought, _'a Kalos region native,_ ) had lifted almost a dozen tasers, a few confused Electrike, and what looked like half the Rustboro force up into the air using Psychic. The screaming had apparently come from a large, bearded officer, who'd had the nerve to reach for his gun. A strange pokemon with a cherry on its head was launching Energy Ball at his feet repeatedly, and he was voicing his objection to this rather shrilly.

All was chaos and mayhem, and standing in the center was one teenage girl. The look on the Staff Sergeant's face was priceless. "What in the name of… this is unacceptable! Who does she think she is? I'll put a stop to this," he growled, reaching for a pokeball, "Manectric! I need your assis-"

"Don't even think about it."

The man looked at Steven in surprise. "Sir?"

"What good will be accomplished by you getting your butt kicked? Let me handle this, you go… do paperwork or whatever."

The Sergeant swelled like a Jigglypuff. "Now wait just a minute! You may have been champion, but that does not give you any authority with regard to police affairs! You realize I have to power to..."

"You talk too much, Staff Sergeant." Steven pulled a sleek black cell phone from the inside pocket of his suit jacket. "Why don't you have this talk with my friend, Director Jenny?"

Silence from the Sergeant.

"Or better yet," continued Steven, enjoying himself as he put a hand on the pokeball on his belt, "talk with my friend Aggron?"

"Was that a threat?" The Sergeant looked nervous.

"No, Aggron is a very caring soul. I'm sure he'd love to hear all about your problems."

The Sergeant stormed off like a Zapdos.

Steven chuckled. "What a Chatot, that one."

He turned to the spectacle before him. "Now to the business of the day..."

(-o-)

He approached carefully, taking his time and making sure she saw his intentions were peaceable. "Hey, uh, miss..."

"You're Steven Stone."

It was a statement. Not a question, not a realization. Just the flat truth. Steven smiled. "You know my name, so you have the advantage. Why not level the playing field?"

She stiffened a bit, but he wasn't floating around the room yet, so… progress?

"Miette." Steven stopped, a bit surprised. "My name is Miette. I'm looking for my boyfriend."

"Well Miette, how about you call off your pokemon, and I'll take you to see him? See, I was just going to talk to him myself. They didn't want to let me see him, either, but being ex-champ has some perks."

Her eyes were razors, threatening to cut him if she smelled a lie. This girl was really scary.

She gave an exaggerated sigh, and the police force, their pokemon, and their stun guns fell to the ground. The shrill officer with the beard, so grateful was he at Slurpuff's return to his pokeball, gave the odd pair directions to the vigilante. No one tried to stop them on their way out of the lobby. Steven had a smile that could kill.

As they proceeded down yet another monotonous hallway, Steven risked a glance at his new companion. The ferocity from before was replaced with annoyance, but there was worry in the girl's face, too. The ex-Champion made an attempt at conversation.

"So, Miette, have you been together long?"

She gave Steven a fierce look, but the man had a will of Steel. Miette stared at him long and hard, before turning away. "No. Not long."

Steven thought about this, nodded, then said quietly. "Mind telling me something about him?"

"Like what?" She was becoming defensive.

"Like why he'd take on a bunch of crooks when that's the polices' job? Or maybe you can tell me _how_ he did it?"

She scoffed. "Well, that last part's pretty obvious, Mr. Champion. He's a pokemon trainer."

"Really? Obvious? Huh, funny, because most trainers, had they tried a stunt like your dearest pulled, would have gotten themselves and their pokemon put six feet under."

Miette seemed to be reeling from the sensation of having her sass thrown right back in her face. She said nothing as Steven continued. "But fine, so he's strong. There are a lot of strong trainers. What I really wanna know is why. Why bother?"

There was a prolonged silence at this. Steven could tell he was not getting the silent treatment, but that the girl was trying to put something into words. Finally, she seemed to give up, and said simply,

"Ash."

It was Steven's turn to be sent reeling. "What now?"

"Ash-Fricking-Ketchum."

"Hold up. I know Ash-"

("Of course you do, that guy knows everyone and their brother from here to Alola...")

Steven ignored the interruption. "I know the guy, what's he got to do with your boyfriend's antics?"

Miette sighed. She seemed to do that a lot.

"Listen, there are only two people in the world my boyfriend really looks up to. One of those people is you, Mr. Stone,"

A pair of silver eyebrows went up slightly.

"and the other is Ash Ketchum. Ever since the Kalos League, he's been obsessed with the guy. Well, I guess the problem started back before the League, but that's not the point. The point is that Ash is… well…"

Steven understood. "Ash," he said, with a wry smile.

Miette nodded. "Exactly. And Ash is reckless, and he never sits back and says 'someone else will do the right thing,'. He's got a hero complex, and enough power and dumb luck to back it up."

"Whoa, now," Steven laughed, holding up a hand, "Ash may have a way of being in the right place at the right time to do the right thing, but I wouldn't call it a complex. He's a good guy, and he has a lot to live up to."

There was a lengthy silence as the two reminisced, only being broken when they reached near to the end of the hall, and Steven saw the door marked **3-A**. "This is it. Let's skip the doorbell." He pushed the door open.

(-o-)

 _This_ was what Sawyer had been dreading the most. Not the rigorous interrogation, court case, or jail time.

He'd been worried about what Miette would do to when she found him.

There had been many likely scenarios playing through his head as he'd sat there ignoring the questioning, most of them very loud and painful. But this hadn't been one of them; namely, Miette flying at him in tackling hug, laughing and crying and scolding him all at once, while holding him tightly.

Sawyer would have hugged her back, but that would have been rather difficult, with him being chained to the chair and all.

The rather perturbed detectives and captains-on-the-force all made some sort of move to remove the blue-haired interloper, but they stopped short. Unseen by either Miette or Sawyer, Steven had drawn a pokeball from his belt and was tossing it back and forth between his hands, a menacing glower shadowing his eyes as he moved to stand behind Miette. When he spoke, the precious few words translated to pages and pages, _volumes,_ of threat.

"Give us a minute, would you, gentlemen? Ladies?"

They left without a word.

It was right as the last of them was closing the door behind him that Sawyer processed his childhood idol was standing just behind his girlfriend, looking at him with a curious expression. Gaping, the poor boy tried to think of something to say.

Steven grinned. "Let's get those chains off."

It was then Miette noticed Sawyer's bonds. With an indignant yell, she released Meowstic, who picked the locks with his mind.

Standing, Sawyer rubbed his wrists and said hesitantly, "Miette, why is the Champion here?"

"Ex-champ, mind you." Steven stretched out his hand. "Call me Steven."

Sawyer's toned hand contrasted Steven's pale skin in a tight grip. "Sawyer."

A firm shake, and then Steven's hands went into his pockets. "May as well get down to it then. You intrigue me, Sawyer. I had no idea that the infamous vigilante was the famous quarter-finalist in the most recent League, though I'd hoped it was you. I've been looking for you. My interest goes beyond your strength, though you are strong. It is your character, paired with that skill, that's so valuable."

Sawyer looked at his hands. Then his eyes met Stone's. "What do you want, exactly?"

"I won't just free you from this station, and drop all charges. I will make you a force to be reckoned with on a global scale. I will give you power to shape this world as you please. Train with me, and your opportunities will be boundless."

It should have been a lot to take in, but Sawyer seemed to handle it pretty well. He turned to Miette. "OK… So what do you think?"

She may as well been wearing a neon sign that said, 'SKEPTICAL'. "Sounds too good to be true."

Sawyer nodded. "Yeah, I'm with her. What's the catch?"

The smile slid off of Steven's face as he turned serious. "You will fight evil in the darkest places on earth. You will be hunted, targeted, betrayed, and fought with at every turn. Asked to do insane things that will seem like suicide missions. You will be at the heart of a deadly conflict that the rest of the world is completely unaware of."

A sinister grin slid onto Sawyer's face, slick as a Purrloin. "That's supposed to be the downside?"


	9. Nom de Guerre

Chapter 7

 _An undisclosed location._

Again and again, a sphere of water slammed into the far wall with an explosive impact. The breaks between impacts were short, but noticeable. Besides the huffing breath of the tired pokemon and Water Pulse's impact, the only other sound came from the trainer sitting against the far wall. Each time a barrage of projectiles slammed into the target, a finger slid a single wooden bead across a rod.

The pneumatic door hissed open. Frillish stopped firing long enough to see who had entered, then returned to his exercise. Walking into the room with the air a troublemaker, the intruder went to the far end of the wall, to accost Frillish's trainer.

"Howdy, _! How goes it?"

The seated boy gave an exaggerated sigh. "How many times, Hero? Codenames only, even in here. Get it through your thick skull."

Grinning, Hero fell back onto the bench beside his friend. "Heh, sorry. I'm not used to calling you Baron. Doesn't seem to suit you."

Baron flipped a row of beads backwards along a rod, and moved a single bead to the end of a lower row. "I sympathize. I can't imagine what they were thinking when they dubbed you 'Hero'. I'd say it was a joke, but Fury isn't know for his sense of humor."

Hero brushed off the banter. "So what's with the washboard?"

Another sigh. "It's an abacus, Hero."

"A whaticus?"

"It counts."

Hero scoffed. "The thing is ancient. Why bother?"

"It's a timeless and beautifully simple machine."

"It's a bunch of sticks, _."

"What did I say _..."_

"Baron! I meant Baron."

Baron sighed, then held up his arm. "See this? It's an Xtranciever. I asked Frillish to charge four Water Pulse as fast as he could, fire them at the wall, and repeat that fifty times. I keep track of his repetitions with the abacus. There's a timer application running on the X to see how long it takes him to do fifty reps. Tomorrow we'll try to beat that time, and when he gets fast enough, we'll go to five spheres in a set. This watch high-tech enough for you?"

Hero pantomimed cleaning his ears. "What was that? I was thinking about lunch later today."

A fourth sigh. "You're hopeless."

"Actually, I'm Hero."

"I think I'll ask Fury to change your codename."

"Yeah! Maybe something like… uh, Hercules! Or-"

"Hillbilly? You are from way out in the boonies, after all..."

"Hey, what'd I say about-"

The door hissed open once again. When Codename: Blue stepped into the room, Frillish stopped what he was doing, and Hero and Baron jumped to their feet and stood at attention, eyes fighting to stare ahead and not at their superior.

"At ease, you two. Frillish, take a rest."

Baron's face was a mask of calm, while Hero's was twitching with excitement. Glancing at Blue, Baron asked, "Well, Sir? Any word from Alloy?"

"That's what I came to tell you. Operation Challenger was a complete success. Alloy is on his way here now with our latest operative, Codename: Thorn..."

A relieved grin from Baron, and a triumphant laugh from Hero,

"-as well as Codename: Azure."

The shared look of elation was replaced with one of confusion. "Sorry, sir," said Hero, looking nervous, "I'm not briefed on that name."

"You shouldn't be. I made it up all of ten minutes ago. To be honest, nobody expected Alloy bringing another along, but Azure is essential to Thorn's cooperation, it would seem. Alloy has faith in her, and Fury will interview her when they get here."

"Oh, so we're cleared to know her gender?" cracked Hero with a shifty look. "I didn't know we even took girls."

Baron frowned, digging his elbow into Hero's ribs. "Quit it. This organization isn't sexist."

Blue let a hint of a smile creep onto his face. "Careful, Hero. Codename: Diamond might overhear you."

Hero flinched, as if the mere mention of Diamond could make him feel the ghost-pain of getting smacked into a wall. "Not that there's anything wrong with female operatives! Diamond's first rate. Top notch!" A smirk crept onto the boy's face. "I mean, just ask Alloy."

Blue fought to keep a laugh at bay. Baron seemed to find this topic uncivil; he took his leave with a stiff bow to confer with Frillish, and Hero seemed to be getting up the nerve to ask Blue something potentially painful. Blue cut him off.

"I know that look, and _no,_ there's nothing I can tell you right now."

Hero sputtered. "How'd you-"

"Halberd has been driving me up the wall for almost a month with talk of Operation Prodigal, and Fury will go in his own time."

This really set Hero off. "A month! The project was announced a month ago! Do I need to go to Fury myself? If it'll speed this up, I'll even volunteer for this assignment! I wouldn't mind some field time, _anything_ to get me out of this compound, and getting to go see-"

"Hero. Enough."

The boy's shoulders slumped, his face miserable. Blue looked on with pity.

"I know how you feel. Believe me, I miss him too. And I'm just as cramped here as you are. But you need to understand one thing above all else, Hero." Blue put and hand on his friends shoulder and looked him square in the eyes.

"Prodigal _cannot fail._ If it does, we won't stand a chance. Everything we've worked for, every little victory, rendered a waste of time. Meaning that when we do this, it's all or nothing. Have patience, and know I'm not thrilled with waiting either."

Hero nodded, his carefree smile coming back just a tad. Pulling a pokeball from his belt, he ran to Baron, calling out, "Draw, you knave! I'll teach you to call me hillbilly!"

Blue smiled as the impromptu battle began. Looking down at his hands, he let the smile turn sad as he murmured, "The Prodigal will come. He will."


	10. A ride through Oak's Preserve

Chapter 8

A battle can teach you a lot about someone's character. The connection forged between opponents is real, and is one of the most satisfying things about a match. With this in mind, sometimes a challenge should be taken as a compliment; a sign of interest. _I want to understand you,_ it says, _to know how you work, to know your limits and your lack of them._

As Bunnelby and Croagunk sat together, panting and aching, they were proof that this can be the case. Neither felt animosity towards the other, but rather their fight had made them fast friends. The two were intelligent, natural leaders, and agile in combat. They had been evenly matched, but would be fearsome partners.

Bunnelby had set off through the woods that morning with Chespin, Panchum, Braixen, and Dedenne, eager to explore their new surroundings. The woods had been eager to please; excitement and new friends seemed to be around every corner, and as the distractions became more diverse, the group had split off- Chespin had taken a liking to a little blue lizard, a funny fellow who liked to dance and shoot water from his mouth. The pair had run off in search of something bigger than themselves to annoy. Idiots.

Braixen had gone exploring with a sleek green and yellow kind of ferret- one who had a habit of bursting into flames. Panchum had fallen from a tree to land plum-smack on a little orange otter wearing some kind of yellow collar. It had taken exactly two seconds for the pair of them to lose all control and go at each other like maniacs. The melee had rolled off into the bushes, the punches and growling becoming fainter the farther they flew. Dedenne, predictably, had seen the dwindling number of familiar faces and dashed off to find Bonnie.

That was about when Bunnelby had realized that Croagunk had been following them since early that morning. The confrontation had led to their battle. The field before the duo was littered with holes, the trees and grass yellow and withered from poison.

Suddenly, Bunnelby's ears perked up, his nose twitching furiously. A familiar smell was wafting through the trees, faint but distinct. It was the smell of an old friend, but mixed with something like… charcoal?

Sylveon had stayed behind with Serena that morning, but the Digging pokemon could definitely pick out her scent. He kicked his new friend, making Croagunk's poison sacs swell in indignation. Giving the frog a pointed look, Bunnelby sprang into a run, flying through the long grass with sharp bounds. He could tell without looking that Croagunk was easily keeping pace above in the leafy canopy. The foliage cleared ahead, and Bunnelby slowed as his nose informed him that he had arrived.

She was walking slow, hesitant and curious, her ribbons twisting in the air as she approached the charcoal. Or, at least, the source of the smell. The young man wore simple, clean clothes. His dark hair, freed of its trademark headband, was long and loose around his face, which was frozen in wonder. A pad of paper sat across his lap, his fingers twined around a fragile, ebony shaft.

Tracey gave a quiet laugh. "You're a beautiful one, you are. Look at you, the way you move… never seen one of you before. And I mean really seen, not a photo or vid. Oh, no don't be scared, it's alright, I won't… ha, what're those for?"

The boy was referring to the tender strands wrapping loosely about his arm. Sylveon's stance grew less tense, and she let out a happy bark, making Tracey laugh.

Bunnelby relaxed. If Sylveon had read him, he couldn't half bad.

Making his presence known, Bunnelby was introduced to Tracey, who Croagunk had already met, it seemed. With the Poison Frog perched in the branches above, Tracey reclined in the shade, his clever fingers laying the image before him on paper: Bunnelby and Sylveon, curled up together in the sun, eyes closed, enjoying the quiet of a pristine day.

The wind made the leafy branches sing, and for almost an hour, the odd foursome was content.

And then Clemont burst out of nowhere, clinging to the back of a raging Tauros and screaming bloody murder.

That Clemont didn't inadvertently trample Bunnelby or Sylveon, or for that matter Tracey, was a miracle in and of itself. As it was, he was gone just as fast as he'd come, his steed blowing onward like a freight train and bellowing in ire.

Tracey blinked a few times, then laughed to himself. "Well, that explains you guys, doesn't it? I guess this means he's here."

(-o-)

 _One hour ago_

To be fair, Clemont had never been very adept at riding pokemon. His Mamoswine on the journey in Snowbelle had largely ignored him and followed Ash and Serena's steed, and Clemont had proven hopeless at Rhyhorn riding. With this in mind, it had been rather optimistic of Ash to think Clemont would be alright on his own.

Ash, knowing this, had given Clemont the calmest of his Tauros. Rampage had been given his name as a joke: ever since he'd been captured in the Safari Zone, nothing had ever managed to rile him. The pokemon had been content with life in Pallet, making him ideal as a ride for children, or an alternate form of transportation when Delia's bike had a flat tire or bent spoke. Today, for the first time ever, he was living up to his moniker.

Serena watched the cloud of dust get smaller and smaller as Clemont rode off into the world, his lovely soprano growing fainter by the second. The performer shook her head. "Well, he's gone now."

Leading a pair of Tauros by the reins, Ash grinned ruefully. "I really don't know how he does it. Any pokemon, any time, Clemont gets on its back and just like that, it goes crazy. I feel bad."

Anyone could have guessed at Bonnie's reaction. "Oh, he'll be fine! He's probably got some kind of taming device in his backpack that will let hi-OMYGOODNESS IT'SSOCUTE!"

The 'it' was a young Tauros with bare stumps of horns poking out of it's wide-eyed face. It looked around as if it couldn't possibly take in everything at once. (In this way, it was scarily similar to Bonnie.)

Serena glowed to see the way Ash smiled at Bonnie. "This little one is about your age, Bonnie. Don't you think he's your size?"

Ash gave Bonnie a handful of treats (Brock's special recipe,) to feed her new friend. Soon Carter, a hand on the ranch, was taking Bonnie to find an extra-small saddle.

Meanwhile, Serena was being introduced to her own mount. It was the polar opposite of Bonnie's: in the prime of it's life, this beast was somber and still, with knowing eyes and dangerous looking horns. Its shoulder muscles were huge even for a Tauros, and it seemed to have a presence that commanded… respect? Reverence?

Serena startled a little when, upon reaching out to touch his head, the huge pokemon bent its front legs and lowered its head, almost as if bowing to her. Ash laughed. "He's so dramatic. Really, it seems to be a common theme with the pokemon I meet."

The awed girl rubbed the sleek fur at the crown of the pokemon's head. "Does he have a name?"

"Yup. That's King. The name's rather apt, as he's sort of alpha around here."

King had been rubbed down by one of the ranch hands that morning, and Ash handed Serena King's blanket and dropped his saddle across it. Serena was rather experienced at the handling of riding-pokemon, but the straps on King's saddle gave her trouble. It was an old-fashioned Kanto rig, and the clasps were strange to her. On King's other side, Ash called, "You doin' OK?"

"I just don't understand how this is supposed to-"

Her voice faded out quick. Ash appeared right behind her, his arms stretching around her, letting his hands rest on hers. "Here, it's just twisted. Like this, look,"

He guided her fingers and showed her how to tie the knot up to the halter, and how to check the saddle. At Ash's closeness, Serena's fingers began to fumble with the straps as she worked. A soft voice sounded right in her ear.

"Take it slow."

Her hands steadied. Her wild breath calmed, and she tightened the harness without thinking about it.

"There you go! Since you know how, you can ride whenever you want while you're here!"

Serena blushed as Ash took a step off to get her gloves. "I'm not sure I could quite remember how, if I did it myself..."

Handing over her riding gloves, Ash grinned. "I can walk you through it 'til you've got it down."

Serena nodded, trying to hold onto the calm that had filled her a moment before. "So why do I get to ride King?"

Ash suddenly couldn't meet her gaze. He began scratching the mass of fur just behind King's head. "Oh, well... I don't know if Kanto riding-pokemon are as well trained as the ones in Kalos. King is the best trained, so I thought, with you knowing so much about riding, you'd like him better."

Serena's head went to one side. "Then why not give him to Clemont?"

Ash's eyes flitted up to hers with a crafty smile. "Well, you're pretty confidant when you ride, but King doesn't react well to a trainer who's… uncertain."

A laugh like a Kalosian stream bubbled up out of Serena, and Ash looked away again. "Anyway, since it looks like the siblings have taken off, you want me to show you around the preserve?"

This sounded like a great idea, but there was one problem. "Aren't you going to ride, too?"

Aaand there was that look.

An idea was coming. A strategy that was certain to catch them unawares, a convention-breaking and flat out unsafe plan. He was going to dive off a building, challenge some Legendary, dance during a gym battle, do something new, or something full of adrenaline, or something possessed by that kind of bravery that bordered on insanity.

Ash pulled his fingerless gloves from his pocket and tugged one on. "Oh, I've still got to break my ride in."

(-o-)

Bonnie wasn't sure what she was going to name her new friend, but she knew it had to be good. This little guy deserved it.

The young Tauros was well behaved, obedient, (mostly,) and was just as curious and playful as Bonnie. He could put up with Bonnie's short attention span because his was just as short. He seemed to understand the importance of keeping Bonnie safe. When a huge owl with a horned plume came swooping silently out of the forest, Tauros sensed Bonnie's fear and kept his distance. He was also on edge when a little orange rodent came hurtling from the treeline, until Bonnie assured her mount that Dedenne was harmless.

Now the rodent sat on its master's shoulder, content to be half-asleep as the little bison plodded on through Oak's preserve.

Dedenne awoke at the same at the same moment that Tauros's ears perked up. It took Bonnie a moment longer to register the sound.

"Water!" She leaned down at patted the fur at her steed's neck. "Let's go Tauros! We can play and cool off!"

A wet snort and a change in direction were an agreeing reply.

The stream was swift and cool. Bonnie rolled up her leggings and chased Tauros back and forth through the current. The sun seemed not-as-fierce in the relieve of the water, and the fun was such that they must not have heard the crashing from close by.

And then things happened too quickly.

There was a desperate squeak from farther down the course of the stream, and Bonnie was screaming to Tauros, and swinging onto his low back as he plunged downstream after the prone form of Dedenne, whose little limbs couldn't keep it ahead of the flow. Bonnie's hand was around Dedenne's sodden form, but Tauros was up to it's belly in the water. As it turned around and began to work violently back to the shallows, Bonnie thought that this was what it was to be Ash.

There was no fear in that moment, because there was no time to be scared.

The spray got into her mouth as she called to her mount, "Tauros! Take Down!"

The little bull redoubled its efforts, lowering its head and giving a valiant, if slightly high-pitched, bellow. He was making his own wake in the torrent, but now the water was halfway up his sides, and his hooves were just managing to tear at the smooth stones of the bed. The trio was slowly but surely drawn to the precipice, and fell from the stream's current into gravity's.

Thankfully, the waterfall was all of twelve feet tall.

It was a hard splash, and a sputtering swim, and then Bonnie was treading water beside her Tauros, Dedenne prostrate on the broad shaggy back, and Bonnie was laughing in relief and her pokemon were, in their own way, joining in.

"Wow," the little blond gasped, spitting water with a grin, "just wait until Clemont hears about this." She angled her head to look up the plunging torrent down which they'd fallen. She was able to take in the beauty of the waterfall, the cascading froth, the sun on the water,

And the huge log, the length of a full-grown tree, plummeting down the very short waterfall towards her.

(-o-)

It's name was Taproot, and he was a stubborn, feisty, adolescent bull Tauros. Since he'd been old enough to ride, he'd crushed three ranch hands up against a post or pole and gored one in the leg. Ash was riding with a rope lead and a blanket. No saddle, no stirrups, and no control. The boy let loose another crazed _whoop_ as the pokemon dove down and sprung up again, running the length of the round-pen over and over, first making the widest route possible, repeatedly banging Ash's knee on the fence, then turning tight rotations dead in the middle of the arena. The blood-gleam in Taproot's eye was becoming angry and desperate, while the light in Ash's eyes was growing brighter and brighter. This was a battle of wills, and Ash was winning.

It didn't quite seem that way to Serena, however. She had to periodically bury her face into King's mane as Ash leaned first to one side and then the other. It seemed that at any moment he'd be thrown from the bull's back and put at the mercy, (or lack of mercy,) of those sharp, chopping hooves. King stood patiently, watching Serena with borderline amusement. Taproot was clearly tiring, whereas Ash hadn't even begun to flag.

Break-riding was something Ash regretted in the forethought and afterthought. The boy admired the unconquerable spirit of the pokemon, its strength and determination. It seemed almost inhumane to dominate that willpower. However, in the moment, it was hard to not enjoy oneself. The adrenaline coursing through his veins, the thrill, the sheer danger and its lucrative joy. When locked in combat, when given an adversary, a rival, a challenge,

Ash felt alive.

And beyond the fear and the worry, Serena saw it. She saw the look in his eyes as the bull, in a last-ditch gambit, rolled over, crushing Ash with its full weight. As the beast came up again, Ash was springing forward. Not on the Tauros's back, this was no longer a break-ride, but a wrestling match. A hand was wrapped around each sharp horn, and the two animals were snorting in tandem, straining into each other. Ash's feet began to give, and then there was a sound from his throat like a Pyroar in battle. With a final burst of effort, he heaved an exhausted Taproot onto his side.

(-o-)

One moment, death, in the form of a huge log, was hurtling from the sky.

The next, it was raining splinters.

It had been too fast to follow with the eye; Bonnie's ears, on the other hand, had given her some warning. The buzz of a giant insect, or maybe a small helicopter; the brutal slash of a blade shredding through lumber. And as Bonnie pulled herself out of the plunge pool, she saw where the copter had touched down.

It stood more than 5 feet tall, perhaps a little taller than Ash. The papery wings gave a nervous buzz as they slowed down. The plated armor was not a calm green, like a tree or new leaf. This was an acid green, a poisonous color, a bright warning. As if the blades for forearms weren't warning enough.

The angular head regarded her with dark eyes. The girl shied away. It may have saved her life, but anything that could reduce a full tree to wood chips _that_ fast was a friend to make carefully.

And then it was okay, because Bunnelby was there, and Sylveon was right behind, and that funny frog from yesterday, and Bonnie knew she could calm down. She rubbed Sylveon's head, wondering why neither she nor Bunnelby seemed nervous around the acid-helicopter.

And then she saw him.

He was a young man, which was odd, because Bonnie's first though when she'd seen him was, _"He's a keeper."_ There was a strange grace to his movement, fluid and measured, like a dancer. He had dark hair that curtained his eyes, and he wore casual summer clothes. Bonnie liked that he had a backpack, but she really wasn't sure _why_ she liked that.

He spoke first to the acid-helicopter, his voice reminding Bonnie of spilled paint. "Nice job, Scyther. Return."

The pokemon bowed his head respectfully before the red light whisked his form away. Tracey put his pokeball away, looking curiously at the soaked little tyke before him. She obviously knew these pokemon, but they weren't hers; he could tell that much. Though her age was nothing to bar her- she didn't seem quite 10, but she had two pokemon of her own. League restrictions said one had to be 10 to receive a pokemon license. Either she was a very small 10, or Ash had not changed his trademark policy of _screw the rules_ _\- I'm Ash Ketchum_ _._

The artist looked down at the little girl, who stared up at him. Sylveon twined her ribbons around Bonnie's arms, Bunnelby casually smelled the air, Croagunk dove into the plunge pool for a swim, and a gust of wind caught up into the emerald canopy above the strange menagerie, and blew high…

(-o-)

High to an outlook, where Serena sat astride her mount, surveying nearly all of Professor Oak's preserve. King never moved, for his eyes were also drinking in the beauty of the swaying viridescent ocean. Unlike Ash's eyes, which were caught up in a different beauty.

There was something assuasive about Serena riding King. Besides himself, there were few Ash trusted to keep his friends safe. But King was, after all, Ash's triumph, Ash's pride and joy. Out of all his Tauros, this was the beast that had brought him through the Orange League, and had served him well in the Silver League Conference. Now in the prime of his life, he was a regal powerhouse of quiet majesty. Ash couldn't possibly entrust Serena to any other- King was reliable and steadfast, a force to be reckoned with, even on this preserve full of powerful pokemon.

So long as she was here, she was safe. They would all be safe.

But for how long?

Ash steered Taproot slowly towards the tree line. His mind became caught up in the blood-frenzy of that awful moment; suspended in the air above Lumios Tower, agony coursing through every vein, his pokemon groaning in pain all around him, his bond with Greninja letting him feel every ounce of torture that Lysandre's machines poured into the Water-type. He remembered his thoughts becoming so disconnected that it had seemed there was a storm in his head, which had spiraled into a cyclone of rage. His bonds shattered, he was falling, he hit the rooftop and rolled to his feet.

He saw Lysandre before him and knew a fight was coming: he saw the fire in Alain's eyes and knew he had an ally, he felt Greninja land behind him and knew he had a chance, he thought of Serena and knew he had no choice.

This maniac was going down. No matter the cost.

"Ash! Hey, you crazy son-of-a-Salamence! Long time no see!"

Ash started from his waking nightmare, surprised to hear a voice he hadn't heard in years. He looked up to see Bonnie on her little Tauros, which was being led by one of Ash's oldest friends- someone else who had been put in danger just by being around him. Tracey Sketchit grinned broadly. "So! Can I meet this lady-friend I've heard so much about?"


End file.
